


Vulture and Crow

by space_thing



Category: Rockman | Mega Man Classic
Genre: Anxiety, Crying, Dark, Emotional Manipulation, Gen, Heavy Angst, Mental Instability, Mild Gore, Out of Character, Self-Worth Issues, Slow Build, Trauma, Trigger warnings:, im sorry for this, not sure if it reaches dead dove do not eat levels but watch out, probably more potential triggers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:03:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 32,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26614918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/space_thing/pseuds/space_thing
Summary: Metal always thought of Wily as a vulture.He swoops down and collects the broken remnants of people who had their lives ripped from them.He gives them the legs to walk only if they walk the path he creates.Metal witnessed the birth and death of a genius.A megaman AU where the 2nd line are instead (mostly) cyborgs.
Comments: 13
Kudos: 21





	1. Laying out the Traps

There is a nice hotel in the city, a few blocks from the large auditorium that would be holding Monsteropolis’s first Cyborg and Robotics Convention the very next day. The hotel, strangely enough, wasn’t packed to the brim with scientists and eager engineers awaiting the event.

Instead it was filled with mostly regular people- those who didn’t know nor care about the event and those who gave robots and cyborgs strange looks as they walked to their hotel room. The type of people that surveyed cyborgs with a judgmental eye or quickly pulled out their phone to avoid eye contact. The exact type of people Metal wished to avoid.

He knew they could see behind his metal plating and see the scars that enveloped his body, could smell the smoke that still lingered in his hair, hear his voice that had been ripped from him by tar and flames so many years ago. He knew they recognized him from news coverings that didn’t exist.

He felt like a spotlight was always on him now. He needed to clean himself again- wash away the stench and wash away the scars. His thoughts whirled around his head and he needed to feel something. What was it he wanted to feel? He could feel the weight of all of their gazes on him, the weight. The weight. The pressure. The tight pressure in his hands and the noise of the television turning on. Television? Voices. 

"God damnit, Metal! Let go of my hand!” 

He forced his eyes to re-focus, struggling to make out the form of Wily standing in front of him, television remote in one hand and an irritated look on his face. Hand? Metal lowered his head to see he was holding onto Wily’s hand tightly.

“Metal! I said let go of my hand!”

He didn’t want to let go, but he forced himself to. Carefully loosening his fingers and uncoiling them from Wily’s hand, Metal watched the skin underneath bloom into a hot red from the grasp. Wily pulled his arm away from the cyborg, setting down the remote and rubbing the red marks away. Wily turned and walked into the other room of the hotel and set one of their bags onto a bed.

“Why must you do that every time? I swear to god I’m going to remove your arms,” He said quietly from the other end. Well, still loud enough the doctor knew Metal could hear him.

Metal still needed to do something- he tried clasping his hands together but that wasn’t quite right. He instead snaked his hands down his arms and held himself tightly, turning away from where Wily had been and instead looking at the TV. It was playing some old race car movie. He felt a little better, but he still needed to take a shower.

“I am going to take a bath,” Metal announced, louder than he intended to and with too much conviction in his voice.

There was a moment of quiet before he heard Wily respond, “Whatever. Just don’t drown. I need your armor for a bit anyways. Can’t have you carrying saw blades into the CRC.”

Contempt with his reply, Metal took one last glance at the TV before walking into the bathroom. He closed the door and met his own gaze in the wall-length mirror. He slowly pulled his hands up to his helmet and pried it off, setting it onto the counter with a soft clunk.

His mouthpiece was still on however, as it was the hardest to take off. Metal leaned in towards the mirror to get a good look at the scars that marked the edge of the mouth piece, the web-like burns that were the first to fade faintly tracing over the rim of his nose and swooped down before meeting his earpieces.

Metal absentmindedly brought up a hand to the mouthpiece, lightly trailing under his chin where a tube connected what used to be his mouth to in-between his collar bones. That was his electronic voice, he was told. He was so damaged Wily had to give him his voice again, along with his ears, and most of his body.

His hands reached down to the end of where his ribcage would be, tracing around his torso to find where it locked into place and set aside the yellow belt-like frame. Doing so caused his chest piece to fall apart from him, and he carefully caught it and set both halves on the floor near the door. Leaning back up, Metal looked down his chest where now exposed wires wrapped around him and met at what Wily called his power core- a green dome in the middle of his chest. It powered most of his heavier metal prosthetics. But why did it have to be exposed like that? Metal saved the question to ask Wily later.

Instead of working with the coils, Metal reached down and opened the maintenance hatch on each of his legs, reaching inside to unlatch them and take off the armor. Underneath the large armor were skeletons of prosthetics- the bare minimum for Metal to move around. The prosthetic legs reached up to his stomach, his entire hip being nothing more than gears and wires.

But such was necessary, Metal assumed. Wily had informed him that having the bare-minimum allowed Metal the freedom to switch between armor and not. The thin and much more fragile legs could fit into the leg armor. The same was with his arms, and those were next.

He reached near where the arm piece met his elbow, finding the little nook that held the latch. He set one down near his helmet, and then the second. Metal then took time to care for the wires that enveloped him, carefully unplugging some from the under-suit he wore. It was kind of like a diving suit, he imagined. Metal had never gone diving, but at the castle he had seen some documentary on the television.

Finally, Metal let out a sigh and straightened his back more than needed, stretching muscle and wires alike. He then carefully disconnected the power core and set it aside. In a weird way, turning it off felt like Metal was releasing some kind of tension he didn’t knew he had. It’s a breath of fresh air being in just the bare prosthetics and under-suit. He took one long look over his body in the mirror again.   


His eyes were perpetually tired, the smooth black hair he felt he rarely ever saw was just as messy as he had left it, a strand or two hanging over his eye and sticking up in weird places from the helmet. From the waist down- metal. From the elbow down- metal. Metal never questioned why Wily renamed him that. 

It felt like he was looking at a stranger. He couldn’t find the tubes attached to his inner arm, or the white sanitized pillow behind his head. He couldn’t seem to find where all the doctors went. As his thoughts trailed, Metal felt down from his right shoulder to where it would have met his hip. The ridges of a deep and wide scar were still there. 

Metal pulled his eyes away from the mirror and turned on the water in the shower/bath combo. Hearing the water was a little relaxing. Metal tried to focus on that, bending over and crouching down beside the tub with his hands on the rim, tempted to dip a hand in.

He needed to wash off the smell of smoke still lingering around him. He couldn’t smell it, but he knew it was there. His thoughts trailed back to his scars, and his eyes drooped down to the under-suit, mapping out where he remembered the scars being.

The under-suit hid his many scars well, but not well enough.

Metal stood back up and turned off the lights in the bathroom. 

* * *

The morning was bright and hot on Metal’s skin. Well, not much skin since he had on his full armor, but skin nonetheless. He took carefully measured steps to keep beside Wily, who was rattling off about something Metal couldn’t care less about. Metal was being the mule per usual; carrying a box of metal doodads Wily planned on showing off at the Cyborgs and Robotics Convention in just a few short hours.

The two of them were walking there now, Wily half-hunched over with a hand on his chin as he grumbled about… something, and Metal taking in the sights.

The sky was a light blue but was threatening to spoil into a dark grey as clouds unfolded themselves from the horizon. There were cars going down the street beside them, Metal listened to their engines gradually get louder before dissipating once again. It was a sound he hadn’t heard in a while and it reminded him of the race car movie he watched last night.

Metal hung his head to watch the metallic bits and bobs clink against each other with every step he took. One thing looked kind of like a remote control, another resembled a tiny pink clown. However, what interested him the most were the numerous blue can-shaped robots, one or two of them with eyes.

Picking one up, Metal tilted it to find a hidden wheel and magnet of some kind at the bottom. Curious, he looked over to find Wily still talking.

“What is this?”

Wily stopped talking abruptly, turning to him and the robot, “Have you been listening to a word I’ve said?”

“What is this?”

Wily reached over and yanked it from Metal’s hand, turning it over in his own hands and rubbed a speck of dust off of it with his thumb. “They’re called Blocky’s.”

“That’s a dumb name.” 

Wily rolled his eyes with a huff, “I did not name them.” 

Before Metal could ask who did, Wily shoved the blue bot back into the box with the others forcefully, catching Metal off guard. Wily looked back towards the building they were nearing- the large auditorium with a dome shaped roof. 

“That reminds me. Your name is David Westwood Novem.” 

“Huh?” 

“Well, can’t go around calling you Metal, can I? That’s a dumb name.” 

Metal would have pulled the corner of his lip up in a silent snarl if he could at that hint of mockery. Instead he let out an annoyed hum of acknowledgement, turning away from Wily and instead inspected what details he could make out of the auditorium. 

Wily turned and lead him instead down a wide alleyway just before the auditorium, probably planning on entering the side door. However, what awaited the two of them were numerous people- around half of them with cameras on their shoulders. Metal gave Wily a weary glance but the doctor didn’t notice (or didn’t care). 

One of the people with a mic turned towards the street and noticed them, her eyes suddenly widening and a devious smile curling her lips. She hurried over to them, and Wily met her half way, Metal following suit. 

“Dr. Wily! Do you have a moment to answer a few questions? The public is very curious about what you’ve been doing since your release from-“ She started to move the mic towards him, but the scientist dodged it lazily and instead got passed her with ease. 

Raising a hand and shoo-ing her off, he said loudly, “No, I cannot. I do not have time. Now, if you’ll excuse me…” 

Metal tried to follow him, but the lady instead turned and shoved the mic into his face next, “What about you? Sir?” 

Metal was caught off guard- the very few social interactions he had over the last few months were mostly comprised of people either staring at him silently or trying to get away from him. But then it suddenly occurred to him that Wily had taken all of the saw blades out of his armor. Perhaps he looked more normal then. 

Wily turned and grabbed Metal’s arm, pulling him along, “My colleague cannot answer your questions at this time.” 

But the other people there had noticed them too. Before he knew it, multiple mics surrounded Metal as people rattled off questions to him, most of them ended up blending into a vocal blur. 

“Please sir-“ 

“What happened to your body?” 

“Are you working with Dr. Wily now? How did that occur?” 

“How long have you been working alongside Dr. Wily?” 

Metal spun his head around, trying to focus on at least one of them at a time. Why were they so close? Wasn’t he supposed to be intimidating? Were they actually interested in him? Should he answer? Which one to answer- which one, which one, which one- He heard a door creak open- was it more people? Hopefully not people with cameras- Metal could feel the cameras on him and the mics catching every silent word he said. 

Wily pulled at his arm again, pulling him inside and away from the people with mics and people with cameras. Metal almost fell over- and it didn’t help that his knee joints felt loose. The robots in the box rattled and threatened to spill over onto the floor- and Metal quickly pulled back up straight. 

Behind him he heard the door shut and he forced his eyes shut for a moment. 

“Blasted news anchors,” Wily grumbled, and Metal opened his eyes again with a sigh. 

“You almost dropped those robots! Imagine if one of those had broke- that would have been the end of me!” Wily yelled, turning back to Metal and jabbing a finger at the box still secure in his hands. 

Metal pulled his head back in surprise, unable to make some noise in response. He was over reacting, right? Yeah, of course he was. He would never entrust something that important to him. 

“S- Sorry,” Metal stuttered out. 

“Something like that will not happen again, I presume.” Wily crossed his arms and glared daggers. 

“No.” 

Metal watched Wily tense up in anger a little more, before realizing his mistake- 

“It won’t, sir.” 

“What is your name?” 

“Ah- David Westwood Novem.” 

“Dr. Novem,” Wily corrected, calming down just a tad. Metal let his shoulders release the tension he hadn’t realized was there. He wasn’t worried about Wily actually doing anything, Metal was just… a little on edge, those cameras and people had caught him off guard for some reason. 

But that feeling of on edge-ness had disappeared as quick as it had arrived, and he sighed again, playing Wily’s little game. 

“Dr. Novem, sir.” 

“Good, you haven’t lost all of your senses.” Wily replied with a roll of his eyes, his hand reaching back up to his chin as he turned around and started walking away from Metal, “Now, where was I? Ah yes, if you see that damned Dr. Light…” 

Metal tuned him out again, following Dr. Wily away from the side door of the auditorium. 

* * *

The inside of the auditorium was huge, and Metal was thankful they had set the box of robots aside for now, some security guy looking over it for them. 

There were cyborgs and robots all around- only around half of the people where full humans. There were people with robotic suits encasing visible legs- raising them high above anyone else or just providing mobility for some wheelchair-bound. 

He saw people with robotic arms or legs to match their own, one even with what looked like a set of goggles over his eyes but Wily informed him that the man was completely blind without them. 

Such amazing things technology could do- Metal had thought. And that thought coiled itself around in the pit of his stomach and formed a heavy knot. What people wouldn’t do for miracles like these he saw. 

This was also probably the most cheerful Metal had seen Wily; he was happy to explain anything Metal asked about for once, and was quiet in thought about other things he saw. Wily and Metal were currently watching a cyborg show off his own creation- robotic wolf of some kind that was as taller than Metal. 

Unfortunately, Metal wasn’t as interested in the wolf as Wily apparently was, and he turned over to the scientist. 

“I’m gonna look around for a bit on my own,” Metal said. He was fully expecting Wily to make a 180 and suddenly become irrationally angry again, but he wasn’t. Instead he just waved him off, saying, “Alright, you know what time to meet up at.” 

Woah. No yelling, no passive-aggressive comments. Wily must be feeling over the moon. 

Not one to waste an opportunity, Metal turned and walked away form the wolf and towards whatever caught his now gleaming eyes first. There was a crowd around a huge construction robot Metal recognized. It was a Gutsman model- but it appeared to be a newer one. 

Metal wandered over to the crowd, looking up at the large robot currently deactivated. Damn, one fist could crush him to a pulp, but here people are sticking their heads too close to the powerful weapons of destruction. There were a few people asking questions- and he turned his head to them. They were huddled around a scientist that Metal couldn’t help but think looked like Santa Claus. 

Metal was careful not to step too close to them, curiosity fighting his weariness of crowds. His eyes wandered back to the large machine, suddenly feeling small despite his slightly-taller-than-average height. “Isn’t it dangerous…?” He didn’t mean to ask that- he quickly and silently cursed himself for drawing any attention to him. 

He expected the same thing as outside to happen, for the people to suddenly turning and asking him a multitude of questions he didn’t know how to answer. But instead, one person glanced over at him and said with a relaxed smile, “Of course not. Dr. Light would never allow his creations to harm anyone.” 

Dr. Light? Was that the man they were asking questions to? Metal tried to remember what Wily had told him to do if he ever saw the man, but he drew a blank. 

Metal raised an eyebrow instead and raised his head a bit to get a better look at the scientist. He seemed slightly overwhelmed with the people around him, calmly explaining all of the improvements he had made to this newest model. Metal watched him smile and laugh at someone’s comment- and set a hand on a boy beside him. 

Metal let out a ‘hmm’ of surprise at the boy- who he hadn’t noticed before. He had deep brown hair and bright blue eyes. Metal tried to get a closer look at him- inspecting his wrists and joints, but he couldn’t figure out if he was a cyborg or robot. Metal watched as the boy shrugged and smiled with Dr. Light, probably entertained with the person’s comment as well. What had they said? 

“Yes well, Rock here is has the most advanced technology. I am trying to find ways to integrate it into the different models, but well, that’s proving a little difficult,” Dr. Light laughed, and the boy raised his hands in a jokingly defensive manner. 

Rock? Was that the boy’s name? And he had the most advanced technology? Metal couldn’t help but let out a scoff- of course he himself was fitted with the most advanced technology. If it wasn’t for Wily’s ingeniousness he wouldn’t be standing here right now. No way could this Santa Claus looking dude make something more powerful than he. 

Then, a peculiar feeling washed over Metal. What was that? He pulled away from the group and crossed his arms. What was that feeling about? Metal racked his brain quietly, finding an empty-ish place in the auditorium to pace and clear his thoughts. Was it about the armor? The technology… Metal looked over at the boy, trying to find what the technology was. 

Was it his joints? Was he built with almost-human movement? Or his brain? How did he think? 

Metal found his eyes kept creeping over to the hand still on his shoulder, and the feeling grew in his stomach. Metal sighed, shaking his head clear of the thought. The notion that he would be- be… jealous of that robot boy if he even is a robot. Wait- jealous of what? Physical contact? Metal knew that wasn’t it, and didn’t dare think about the actual reason he was jealous. He forced himself not to think about the doctor and robot-cyborg-thing laughing and getting along together. He forced himself not to look over at where Wily was now, watching another robot being shown off. 

“Fuck,” Metal tried to hiss under his breath, but it came out a spoken word. Damn his voice box. 

Instead of pacing some more, Metal clenched his fists and walked back to the robots, careful not to walk near Wily for now, and there was plenty of room to avoid him completely. He wasn’t here to think about that kind of stuff, Wily brought him here to speak before a crowd. To exist upon a stage and be shown off like all of the other robots and cyborgs here. 

Wily wanted to show him off as a beacon of home for anyone in his situation- be the walking promise that Wily can fix them. He took Metal- bedridden and existing solely in hospitals and surgical tables, and gave him legs and a voice again. 

Metal looked over at the stage he knew he was going to stand upon, and the sick feeling formed in his stomach again. He didn’t want to do it. He couldn’t help but feel like a light to helpless moths. Metal sighed and looked at one of the numerous clocks in the large room, noticing it was almost time. Guess he would have to interact with Wily sooner than he had wanted too. Well, at least he wasn’t as grumpy as normal at this convention. 

What people wouldn’t do for miracles like him, he thought, and silently cursed at the feeling in his stomach as it coiled sickeningly again. 


	2. Quiet Moths

Things seemed to go much faster after the Cyborgs and Robotics Convention. Wily and Metal returned to Wily’s cliffside liar, and Wily hid away in his workshop, leaving Metal to his own devices. That usually entailed Metal would go from sitting atop the ocean cliffside, to standing around in the training room, and often to work on a little robot of his own in the living room while the television played in the background.   
That’s what he was doing now, all of his attention focused on the little robot between his hands. He wasn’t any good at building it- he couldn’t get it to turn on and sometimes it would fall apart completely. Wily had left a few hours earlier, talking about meeting someone at the airport, but even if he was here Metal wouldn't ask for his help. This was his own little project.   
He heard the door open behind him, and Metal looked over his shoulder to see Wily pushing a stretcher in. It had a blue-grey blanket draped over a figure laying down- oh, another poor soul. Metal stood up as Wily left the stretcher near the door, walking over to him and motioning back towards the poor soul, “Bring him to a room.”  
Metal nodded and set his little robot project on the couch cushion to go back to later. Walking over to the stretcher, Metal was tempted to look under the blanket at the face of the man he would soon get to know. How old was he? Hopefully not an old man like Wily. Metal doesn’t think he could handle having two walking skeletons in the castle.   
Metal moved him to one of the rooms Wily had prepared for the poor souls he brought back. Metal thought it was similar to a hospital room- it had a bed, a bedside table with a light and a book or two, a ceiling fan, and a window opposite of the door with cheesy skull curtains. Metal had a room like this for himself, but he rarely ever actually spent time in it.  
Wily came in soon after, thumbing through pages on a clipboard, mumbling about all the things he would have to do. Metal stood back to give him some room, his eyes on the chest of the poor soul, watching for any movement. There was the faintest rising, and Metal wondered just how twisted his body was under that blanket.   
Wily leaned down over the top half of the stretcher, lifting the blanket ever so slightly to get a peak as he ordered Metal to retrieve one of the ventilators from storage.   
Metal nodded, before realizing Wily wouldn’t see his gesture, and quickly walked out of the room. The storage was directly beside Wily’s workshop, which was secluded in its own little corner of the castle. On one hand, that makes getting anything out of storage a pain, but on the other Metal didn’t have to hear Wily’s constant whining.   
The door to storage was much larger than it needed to be, double doors wired to open together and probably large enough to fit that Gutsman robot through. Metal pulled it open and the hallway lights above him reached out into the dark storage . In the far reaches of visible floor wires sprawled out onto the concrete like snakes, and Metal reached over to the wall, feeling for the light switch.   
Once the room was actually lit up, Metal took slightly longer than he probably should have to marvel at all of the things in there. There were robot skeletons held up on some kind of heavy duty clothing racks, some of the skeletons fitted with early models of Metal’s armor. In another corner there was a giant shelving system where Wily could sort through sheets after sheets of metal and wood and whatever other material comes in thin slices.   
There were plenty of medicinal things as well. Synthetic skins, goggle-like headsets, and multiple robotic limbs fitted with the thinnest of wires tied neatly together as to not get knotted. Metal shook his head- he needed to stay focused. Where was that… Ah! Metal pulled a wheeled machine to the side and grabbed the ventilator.   
Metal grabbed the mask hanging off of it and rolled the machine out of the storage room, taking one last glance back inside before turning off the light and closing the doors.   
When Metal reached the the room he had rolled the poor soul into, he wasn't surprised to find it closed. Had Wily pulled the blanket off of the man? Was his destroyed body visible? Could Metal see? His hand absentmindedly reached up to his right side and scratched at his armor. Metal was tempted to try to peek, but he thought not and instead knocked.   
Wily opened the door, the clipboard still in his hand. Metal pulled the ventilator over towards the doorway and Wily moved it inside. Not bothering with any ‘thank you’s.   
Metal leaned over to get a look at the poor soul, but before he could see anything Wily slammed the door in his face.   
“ _Ow! Fuck!_ ” Metal grumbled, his mouth piece being smooshed against the bridge of his nose. Turning away, Metal dropped any plans to investigate the new poor soul further. Leaning against the door he brought a hand up to rub the pain away.  
“That’s what you get for being nosey.”   
Metal pulled his hand away from his face- he did _not_ just hear Wily say that. There was a snickering from behind, and Metal grumbled. “Fuck you, you pile of bones.” Metal huffed and started pacing down the hallway. Wily would probably have that room closed off for the next few weeks to months depending on how much he needed to work on the poor soul.   
Well, if Metal couldn’t get a sneak peek at the man, perhaps there was another way to learn something about him. His hand and thoughts trailed, his hand to his mouth piece and his thoughts to the clipboard Wily was carrying. Wily must have written down everything about this new soul somewhere, and if Metal knew Wily he knew there were duplicates of everything.   
“Perhaps, perhaps…” Metal thought aloud, “Would he have notes in his workshop?” It would make sense, Metal concluded. Wily probably planned on picking up the poor soul a while ago so he would plan out every step. Nothing was spontaneous with him.   
Metal would have had a devious grin, his eyebrows lowering with his plan.   
One last glance at the little room Wily had closed off, and Metal quickly walked down the hallway towards the storage room and Wily’s workshop. 

* * *

Metal pulled the plastic chair closer to the bed with one hand, his eyes watching the blue-grey carpet rise and lower with every breath of the poor soul. In his other hand was a book he had found from Wily’s personal library. The poor soul had a name, Metal had found out, but Wily chose to change it as he had with Metal.   
“Hey, Air,” Metal said. The blanket was still pulled over Air’s face, but how there was the outline of the ventilator mask jutting out. “How are you doing…?”  
Weeks had passed, Wily was still working on Air’s body. He was mostly finished with his head- a face plate with new vision and voice and ears placed neatly upon him. Metal would never see his face, but he was now contempt with that.   
Air didn’t respond to his question. Metal wasn’t even sure he was awake yet. Wily was in his workshop, unaware that Metal had ever entered it without his permission, and was working on Air’s chest armor right now. Wily had told Metal to further test Air’s senses, to see if everything worked well enough for now.   
“Yeah, uh, your new name is Air by the way. Dr. Wily is working on your body right now,” Metal felt strange talking to him. One-way conversations weren’t really his thing, but Metal remembered when he could finally hear again and the only thing he wanted to do was listen to _someone_.   
“I don't know if you can hear me, or if you’re even awake,” Metal lowered his head and thumbed through the pages of the book, crossing his legs, “But I’m going to be here and keep you company for a while. Don’t think you’d mind.”   
There was the low droning of the ceiling fan, but every once in a while a bird outside called out.   
“I got this book,” Metal glanced over at Air, looking where his head would be, “Don't know if you prefer fantasy, but all that old coot’s got is science books. Hope you’re ready for class.” Metal let out an amused huff- not quite a laugh. There was silence in response. Air probably just wasn’t awake yet. Metal started reading aloud a chapter on the history of hydraulic systems.   
A few hours passed, at least it felt like it. Metal wished he had a clock of some sort. Wily had offered to integrate an internal clock in Metal’s armor, but that would require further integration with him and his armor. The least invasive option being some kind of optics. Metal still had his eyes though. He could gladly keep his original eyes than always know the time. And his eyes right now couldn’t help but droop lower with each word he read.   
Yawning, Metal lifted the book and checked how many pages he had read. A few chapters. That was enough for today. He felt like if he sat down there any longer he would probably pass out.  
Metal stood up and set the book on the table, stretching out muscles and wires. He moved to close the window- before he felt something touch his hand.   
His head whipped around, all tiredness in his eyes melting into eagerness when he saw what it was- a hand peeking out from under the blue-grey blanket. Metal quickly sat back down, keeping his hand where Air could touch.   
“Hey, so you woke up, huh?” Metal asked, laughing, “About time. I was getting a little bored of just reading.” Metal watched Air’s hand tap his own, and Metal turned Air’s hand over- giving in to his curiosity to inspect his skin.  
There were no visible scars, no clues as to what happened to him there… The only clue was a black band tattoo around his ring finger. “What’s this?” Metal asked, tracing his own finger around it. Partially curious and partially just wanting to elicit a response from Air.   
Metal looked over to see the same gradual rise and lower of the blanket.   
“Ah, strong silent type then.”   
No new movement and silence.  
“Alright _well_ , it’s getting kind of chilly in here. I’ll be right back, I’m going to close the window,” Metal reassured him. Air’s hand tapped his again, the little _tink tink tink_ sound barely heard.   
Standing up, Metal repositioned Air’s hand back onto the bed, and walked to the window. “I’m just right here, don’t worry,” Metal said, glancing back. He was no further than a yard from the foot of the bed, and he looked back out the window. The sun was beginning to set over the ocean waves, and the sky was clear of any birds.   
Metal reached out and shut the window.   
Stepping back, Metal touched Air’s hand, “See? Still here.” Air tapped his hand again. Metal thought for a moment, hand reaching up to his chin.   
“Are you awake enough to answer a few questions?” More gentle tapping.   
“I’ll take that as a yes. One tap for yes, two for no.”   
Air’s hand stopped, before tapping once.   
“Nice. Alright, Do you know where you are?”   
_Tap._  
Metal nodded, sitting back down, “Good. Can you speak?”   
_Tap .Tap_.   
“Have you tried?”   
_Tap._   
“Was it to tell me to shut up?” Metal joked, and forced his little voice box to express that humor. Air’s hand stilled. For second Metal thought he had fallen bask asleep.   
“I’m joking, I’m joking.” Metal rolled his eyes, “Can you hear the fan?”   
A pause before- _tap tap._  
“Ah. Well, that’s okay. It’s really quiet anyways.” Metal looked up and watched the blades turn. “Would you answer a few questions about that tattoo on your hand?”   
_Tap tap._  
“What about your past?”   
_Tap._   
“Ooh nice,” Metal said tiredly. The first rush of excitement about Air being awake has rubbed off, and his eyelids drooped again, “Are you over 40?”   
_Tap tap._  
“Over 30?”   
_Tap tap._  
“Over 20?”   
_Tap._  
“I was going to ask what happened to you that made you turn to Dr. Wily, but I realized that would take a lot of yes no questions,” Metal sighed, “And well, I guess that’s information best kept secret if you want. I won’t get anymore specific.”  
Metal paused before continuing softly,” I’m real tired. It’s been a long day.” Metal sighed, “You should get rest too. I know you just woke up, but I have to report back to Dr. Wily about your condition, and there’s not much in the way of entertainment in here.”  
Air didn’t tap in response. Well, it wasn’t really a question. Instead, Metal watched Air wrap his hand around his, sensors informing him just how tight the grip was.   
“Hey, I can come back if you want. I just won’t guarantee I’ll stay awake. That good?”   
Air slowly let go, taping his hand once.   
“Alright. See you in a little bit, Air.” 

* * *

Metal sat down on the couch, the news playing on the television and the little maroon-colored robot project in his hands. He screwed the back panel shut tightly and tried to turn the little thing on. He mumbled a little under his breath before he heard the back cushion of the couch creak with a weight from behind him.   
“You’ve mixed up the wires.”   
Metal sighed, “Hello, Air. Good to see you’re up.” He looked back to see him leaning against the couch, the large fan on his chest whirring softly and letting out rhythmic hums reminiscent of the rise and fall of a blue-grey blanket. Air was a bit unnerving to see in full armor, his head not separated from his chest, and even then only his optics were visible.   
Metal turned back to his robot, letting out a hum of frustration and began unscrewing the back panel yet again.   
“For a scientist you make a lot of mistakes, Dr. Novem,” Air said as he stood back up and moved around to sit beside Metal on the couch. Metal scooted over for him and rolled his eyes.   
“My name is not Dr. Novem, I’ve told you this before. Novem is just an alias,” Metal retorted. He had repeated those sentences many times, he’s almost certain Air does it to irk him. Metal set the back panel on the arm of the couch and brought up his little maroon project up to his eyes to get a better look at the small delicate wires and gears inside.   
“Then what is it?”   
Metal paused. He didn’t look away from the wires, but he wasn’t focused on them anymore. In an instant his mind shot back to Wily’s workshop and the little filing cabinet near his desk filled to the brim with folders and schematics. Metal quickly caught himself though, and hoped Air didn’t catch his hesitation as he turned the maroon robot towards him.   
“Which wires are you talking about?”   
“I asked you a question,” Air insisted, annoyance forming in his tone. Metal glared at him, his own annoyance growing.   
“ _Metal_. I’ve told you this before. Now, _which wires_ were you talking about?”   
Metal watched Air’s optics. He wished they were actual eyes- that they could be expressive and betray Air, letting Metal some hint as to how he really was feeling. Even though Metal was sitting right next to him, it still felt like there was a wall between the two of them.   
There was a minute of silence between the two, only the TV and faint curses from Dr. Wily were heard.   
Air then pointed towards two similar colored wires, “The darker one is supposed to go here.” Metal watched, and turned the robot back to him, noticing his mistake.   
“Ah. Where’d you learn that stuff?” Metal asked, and beside him he heard Air lean back on the couch, the television raising in volume. Dang it, Metal forgot the remote was on Air’s side now.   
“Read it in a book.”   
“You like reading?” Metal asked as he fixed the wires. He wasn’t surprised, just wanted to get a feel for Air’s interests with gentle prodding. Having fixed the mistake, Metal started screwing the back shut _again_.  
“Yeah. Better than talking to Dr. Wily, the old fool,” Air let out a noise Metal could only assume was supposed to be a laugh, but it sounded much too monotone. He looked up at Air, raising an eyebrow.   
“Was that supposed to be a laugh?”   
“I’m working on it, shut up.”   
Metal in turn let out a quick laugh, turning on the robot. Its eyes lit up, but didn’t do anything else. If Air wasn’t there, Metal would have said something like ‘Yes, finally!’, but he was so Metal just glanced over at him quickly and turned the robot back off.   
“Is it working now?”   
“Yeah. I still need to program most of its commands though,” Metal said, leaning over and setting the robot beside the couch where it couldn’t get easily knocked over. Metal turned and watched the tv. It was some news coverage about a horrible accident, injuring a famous race car driver LeMarc.   
“Aw damn,” Metal whined.   
“Isn’t that the guy they made a movie about?” Air asked.   
“Yeah,” Metal rolled his head back and watched the ceiling, “Don’t know how they made a whole movie about him though. I mean, I liked him, but how do you make a movie about a guy that just…” Metal was interrupted by the quietness besides him. What sound- what sound’s gone- Metal pulled his head back up and looked over at Air. Oh fuck- oh fuck-

Air's fan was shut down.

No more rise and fall of a blue-grey blanket.

Air was hunched over a little, the fan in his centre still and his twitching hand pulled up to it. “Oh god oh fuck,” Metal muttered, quickly standing up, “Wily- Dr. Wily.” What should he do- what should he do- get Wily. Get. Wily. Metal raised his hands as if holding Air to the couch.   
“I— I’m okay—“ Air struggled to make out the words. No, he wasn’t.   
A sick feeling coiled in Metal’s stomach as he stuttered out, “Hold on. I’ll go get Dr. Wily.” The words came out much more confident than he was currently feeling. He saw Air relax just a tad.   
Okay, he had to go. Metal looked over at the door and quickly back at Air before darting towards Wily’s workshop as fast as his metal legs could take him.   
Reaching the door, Metal flung it open. Inside Wily spun around from the chest armor he was working on. Metal recognized the fan centerpiece on it, but he didn’t acknowledge it. His heart was racing, chest was heaving, and his eyes stinging for a reason he couldn’t quite place.   
“A-Air, he’s…”   
Metal didn’t have to finish that sentence. Wily immediately stiffened up and quickly moved out passed him with a ‘damn’ under his breath. Metal looked back to watch him go down the hall where he had just ran from. “Where is he?” Wily called before disappearing around the corner.   
Metal turned to follow him, but suddenly realized how shaky his legs were. “Living room!” He called out, his vocal volume as high as he could make it. He could hear his joints shaking just as much as his breaths were. He recognized this feeling- he needed to take a shower. He needed to clean. With every shaky breath he swore he could have smelled a hint of smoke. He needed to feel-needed to feel-  
“ _What are you waiting for you piece of junk_?” Metal heard Wily call from down the hall, and his mind was snapped back to reality. He didn’t need to feel right now- he needed to help Air.   
What a horrible choice for a name, the thought struck Metal as he took a deep breath and quickly followed where Wily had gone. 


	3. Ice Cream and Protagonists

Metal walked down the sidewalk, the cars driving by beside him. He was disguised to look as human as possible. He had no armor, and his skeletal prosthetics were covered by a black leather bomber jacket, deep brown gloves, and baggy pants. His ear pieces were modified to closer resemble earphones than rabbit ears. Honestly Metal doesn't see why they Dr. Wily doesn't fix them to always look like that. Sure would make the job a lot easier on him.  
Wily had sent him to get some groceries from the store. If he was being honest, Metal thought it was funny that Wily had his own castle and a robotic army standing idle but has to order Metal to get eggs and pancake mix.   
Metal had his hands in his pockets to ground himself as his mind wandered. Part of him was glad Air wasn’t with him. He was still recovering from last night. Turns out Wily had been working on a better fan-ventilator for Air and just gave him that one to stop his complaining.   
Metal remembered scolding Air for being so rash, only to sigh and wait beside him as Wily fixed his fan, taking Air’s arm armor off to tap his hand in an attempt to comfort him. Metal found that Air was more frightened than he had let on. It had been so sudden- one minute Air was breathing and the next…  
Earlier this morning Wily in turn scolded Metal for acting like a scared child yesterday. Saying how he needed to be more take-charge. Metal was Wily’s right hand man, so he needed to act like it. Metal had felt bitter immediately afterwards, but walking was clearing his mind and thinking it over Metal couldn’t help but agree with what Wily had said.   
Metal turned off the street and started walking across a large parking lot, his eyes surveying the parked cars and other people with carts. No one really payed him any mind. Good. His hand reached up and scratched the right side of his ar- err…- scratched his side under the jacket. That was a strange feeling. He could feel it on his under suit, instead of just hearing the metallic _screaches_ of metal on metal.   
Walking inside, Metal reviewed everything he needed to get. Bread, eggs, pancake mix, milk, and some ice cream. Okay, Metal added the ice cream, but Wily wouldn’t care enough to punish him for it.   
Metal grabbed a little basket from the pillar near the door and gathered the supplies. He had shopped here plenty of times before, so he knew where everything was.   
The last thing on the list, ice cream. Metal walked down the frozen goods isle, eyes and hand digging through the basket to make sure he got everything.   
“Could we get Neapolitan?”   
“Of course, can you reach it?”   
Metal looked up and almost had a heart attack. There was Dr. Light and the little robot/cyborg Rock. Metal stiffened up, and turned his head towards the fridges’ clear doors. Rock was reaching up for a container of Neapolitan that was far too high for him to realistically reach. Perhaps Dr. Light could.   
Metal knew they wouldn’t recognize him. They didn’t even talk at the CRC, but Metal still didn’t want to make small talk. Metal looked over labels he didn’t care about to avoid looking at the two of them. Metal heard Rock softly grunt as he tried to reach it, and he stifled back a laugh. Such a small thing to have the “most advanced technology”.  
“Hi! Would you be willing to lend a hand?”   
Metal looked over to see Rock looking back. Metal hesitated, surprised Rock said anything to him. Dr. Light sighed, “No, it’s okay. I can reach it don’t bother hi-”   
But Metal quickly walked over and reached up, grabbed the ice cream, turned back, and handed it to Rock.   
“Thanks! Hey, my name’s Rock.”   
“Strange to be introducing yourself to someone you just met in the store of all places,” Metal said sternly.   
“Oh, but I thought I recognized you from somewhere,” Rock said, a hint of disappointment in his voice as he set the ice cream into the cart. Dr. Light was shaking his head from the side saying softly, “I’m sorry for bothering you, sir.”   
“It’s fine.” Metal said, looking down at the motions Rock took. Up close his skin looks synthetic, but that was not uncommon even in full robots. Damn, part of him was hoping to get some hint of what that boy is.   
“You probably _have_ recognized me,” Metal surprised himself with the words, “My name’s…” He paused again, but this time recovered faster and the hesitation was barely noticeable- he was sure of it, “ David. David Novem.”   
What was he _doing_? Metal didn’t want to introduce himself. He didn’t want to be interacting with Dr. Light or Rock at _all_.   
“Dr. Novem! Dr. Wily had-“ Dr. Light started, a smile creeping on his face. Metal felt like he was going to puke, he made a mistake. He didn’t want to be here anymore. Well, there was nothing holding him there. Metal quickly walked passed the two of them, and turned away from that isle. He didn’t bother to listen to what Dr. Light was going to say. He didn’t care.   
That was a lie, but he didn’t want Dr. Light to try to remember his face. It’s a surprise it took his alias to remind Dr. Light of the most technologically advanced miracle of machine the world had ever seen was standing right in front of him. Well, Air probably holds that title now. But he still had trouble breathing while Metal was running as smooth as could be.  
Metal glanced back at the isle he came from before relaxing. He hoped Rock wouldn’t chase him down.

_Rock_ shouldn't have recognized him.

_Metal_ shouldn't have said anything.

**_Rock_** shouldn't have seen him.

_**Metal**_ shouldn't have even been down that isle.

  
Damn, this is just what Wily was talking to him about.   
Wily had told him what to do and Metal should have done just that. Metal went through the self checkout with his little basket and walked out of the store with the bags gripped tightly in his hands.   
He had learned his mistake, Metal thought as he paced through the parking lot. Imagine Wily finding out that he had been so close to Dr. Light. Close enough that if he was in armor Metal could have easily chucked a metal blade at his neck. Close enough that he wouldn’t have missed and close enough that he right then and there would find out which was more advanced. He or the little robot/cyborg Rock.   
Metal had to do better. 

* * *

Metal was sitting beside Air again, Air having been fixed but was still in recovery. Dr. Wily wanted him to rest more than he had before and for Metal to look over him. Metal didn’t challenge him. He wouldn’t lie to himself- it felt weird just going with Dr. Wily’s orders without any refutal or sassy remark.   
Air was a complete mess. This was the first time Metal had a good look at everything wrong with him. Air’s armor was gone for now, revealing the expensive work of integration into his chest- wires actually weaving through his skin in some places. His head was covered up with a cloth, with two little holes making his head look like a last-minute ghost costume. Air said Wily had done it- couldn’t stand to look at his face.  
Air still had the rest of his body though, save for one arm. The arm that was still there was holding onto Metal’s as they sat in silence- Metal with his legs crossed on the chair nearby and Air sitting up in his bed.  
Metal could see all of his tattoos now. The biggest was a snake tattoo wrapping down his arm, but there were many smaller tattoos in different languages.   
“Surprised you’re not saying ‘what is this, what is this, what is this,’” Air joked- his voice box was still attached and in working condition. Metal looked over as Air tried to make another laugh. It was bad, still too monotone. He didn’t bother to respond, his mind somewhere else.   
“Impressed with my perfected laugh?” Air asked, pulling his hand away gently to bring to his chest in self appraisal.   
“No.” Metal stood up and moved over to the window, looking out at the ocean again. He was back in full armor, saw blades visible and ready to use at any moment. There was no danger, but Metal still couldn’t relax.   
“Wow, thanks. What’s crawled up your ass and died? You’ve been on edge all day since you got back.”   
Huh, Air still struggled with laughing but he’s got annoyance on point.   
“Nothing,” Metal bit back. Damn, what was with him today? Metal forced himself to take a deep breath, trying to relax tense muscles and stiff joints. He heard Air shift around behind him, and glanced back to watch him lay back down and pull the blue-grey blanket back over himself.   
“Fine then,” Air huffed.   
_Fuck_ , Metal furrowed his brow with a silent whine. He didn’t want to be rude to Air, he didn’t want to be mean but he was still to tense and still feeling wrong. What was he supposed to say? He didn’t know why he was suddenly angry.   
“No- I just,” Metal started, closing the window and looking back at the cloth over Air’s face, “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s with me today.”   
“Did Dr. Wily twist _your_ wires?” Air joked with a roll of his eyes.   
“Maybe, maybe.” Metal said, walking over to sit back down. All he wanted was to go somewhere like the training room- practice his aim and pace until the tenseness in his body melted away. But Dr. Wily told him to stay in here. Dr. Wily gave him orders, and Metal was going to learn from his mistakes and _follow them to a T_.   
“There’s no new books on the table, are there?” Air asked, and Metal looked beside his chair at the bedside table, shaking his head with a ‘mmhm’. “And Dr. Wily wondered why I was so eager to get out of this room.”   
Metal wanted to bite back at him and remind him that he could have very easily asked Wily to bring him something new to read instead of risking his life to _sit on the fucking couch_. But he didn’t. Metal instead shrugged, “He’s more focused on fixing you than keeping you entertained.”   
“Still,” Air re-positioned under the blanket. The room melted into quiet again. Metal tried to calm himself down, closing his eyes and focusing on his breathing. Breathing in deep- then out slowly.   
In- then out.   
In- was that smoke he smelled?   
Metal opened his eyes and looked around the room, anger turning into anxiety. No, of course not. There’s nothing in the room that would smell like that, and there is no way a fire could spark in the castle. Wily is so reserved with his decorating Metal’s surprised there’s even a floor.   
But there was something in the room that wasn’t before. Footsteps slowly drawing near and a soft metallic creaking. Metal stood up and looked down at Air, who was unimpressed and busying himself with picking at the edge of the blanket with his good hand. Wily said he was busy today, that couldn’t be him. It _shouldn’t_ , at least.   
Metal was about to ask Air if he heard that noise, but he began to hear words and instead focused on making those out.   
“… w-well I was just hoping that y-you could…”   
“Of course Mr. Sebelas. That is nothing I couldn’t do easily.”   
Sebelas? Who was that? Metal didn’t know any-  
The door to their little room opened up to Wily in the hallway, beside him was a younger kid in a wheelchair.   
“Dr. Novem, my apologies for intruding on your work, but may I speak with you for a minute?” Wily asked in an unusual tone. Great, another poor soul. Metal looked over at Air to see him rolling his eyes. Air didn’t know what that tone meant, and probably couldn’t see the kid in the wheelchair from his bed.  
“Of course,” Metal said, surprised that Wily didn’t bother to take out his saw blades again if he knew there would be a new person visiting. Metal stepped out into the hallway and closed the door behind him, his eyes trying not to stare at the new kid, who he could only assume to be the Mr. Sebelas.   
He looked young, with curly black hair and deep blue eyes, his hands nervously picking at each other in his lap as his eyes shifted over Metal- who had to look down at him in his wheelchair. He still had a bit of baby fat making him look younger than he probably is.  
Dr. Wily looked between Metal and Sebelas for a second before nodding, “Yes, Dr. Novem this is a Mr. Douglas Sebelas. He will be joining our program.”   
_Joining our program_ , is that what Wily calls selling your soul?  
“H-Hello Dr. Novem… I’m a big fan of your work and- and,” Sebelas started, extending a hand in greeting. Metal hesitated, reminding himself how to grip something lightly again, before shaking it. He tried not to squeeze too hard, having been used to carrying heavy metal sheets for Wily and Air not minding a tight grip.  
“Hello, Mr. Sebelas,” Metal said, glancing over at Wily. He hoped his eyes hid the growing feeling of bitterness in the back of his throat and the anger returning to his wires.   
“I was hoping you could show him around the place,” Wily started, bringing his hands behind his back and nodded, “I will take over your work here for you. Don’t worry.”   
Metal wasn’t the one who should be worried. What was Wily doing to convince this kid to willingly join him? What did he promise?   
“Of course. Thank you,” Metal said, trying to sound like he was smiling. Wily opened the door and lowered his head in a fake greeting with Air before raising a hand to the two of them as a goodbye.   
Then, it was just the two of them in the hallway, Metal and the kid in the wheelchair. It was quiet, no ceiling fan to listen to. Metal looked down at him, trying to figure out what he was going to do. Wily just told him to show him around the place, not what to say or how to keep up the charade that was Dr. Novem.   
“So, what brings you here?” Metal asked, turning and starting down the hallway. he heard Sebelas follow. It was a strange sound Metal hadn’t heard in a long time- the sound of a wheelchair.   
Sebelas smiled, taking a moment to tuck some loose strands of hair behind his ear, “W-Well, I was uh, I was very interested in Dr. Wily and your work. It’s amazing- _you’re_ amazing. You two push the limits of what’s possible and…”   
Metal contemplated where to lead him first, and turned down the hallway, “What are you wanting to do here?”   
“Oh! I was hoping to work under Dr. Wily, as an- as an assistant probably…”   
Metal would have choked on his spit if he could, a cold wave trickling down his spine, “Assistant?” He looked over and down at Sebelas who was pushing himself along.   
He looked so… out of place here. He had his eyes, mouth, ears, face, body… Seems the only thing he didn’t have was mobility. He didn’t need to be here, he had no reason to be. Air and Metal- they both had reasons. They were on the verge of death and were desperate for any hope of moving again.   
“Yeah! I mean, yes sir!”   
Metal led him through the doors and out onto a large balcony fitted with a table welded down and a few chairs. Metal looked over at Sebelas and felt the knot in his stomach tighten. Sebelas wasn’t looking back at him, having instead rolled up to the railing and watching the birds and ocean.   
Metal said he was going to obey Dr. Wily’s order’s from now on and doing this would probably be going against his will, but… Wily only ordered him to show Sebelas around, so he’s not technically going against him. Metal furrowed his brow in thought as Sebelas marveled at the horizon.   
“Listen,” Metal started, having to pause. He didn’t have anything planned, all of this was just so sudden. Just a few minutes ago he was beside Air and now there’s this kid in front of him trying to sign his own death warrant. Sebelas bobbed his head up and looked back, turning his wheelchair to meet Metal’s eyes, “Yeah?”   
“You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into,” Metal said, wanting to bring his hands together but forcing them to stay by his side, “This- all of this is a lot more… serious than Dr. Wily makes it out to be. He’s not just making miracles.”  
“I know, Dr. Novem-“ Sebelas started, tilting his head to the side with a smile. No, he doesn’t.  
“That’s _not_ my name,” Metal snapped, “I’m not a doctor, I couldn’t build a fucking _lever_. You don’t need to be here. Dr. Wily has bad plans. Plans to do horrible things once he’s gathered enough people and you _don’t need to get tangled up in this_.” Metal lowered his shoulders, trying to get his point across without revealing too much. His hands tightened into fists in frustration as he watched Sebelas process what he was saying.   
Sebelas’s face slowly melted from confusion into understanding, then finally much to Metal’s disarray he smiled again, “I know. I’m here to help.” 


	4. Rainy Cafe

Stuffing spilled out onto the training room floor, the test dummy thoroughly maimed from multiple saw blades sticking out from its chest and neck. His aim was getting better, Metal noted. The dummy had been tied up to a pillar, but by now it’s bent over and practically in two pieces.   
Metal took in another shaky breath, his hand reaching up to his shoulder to grab another saw blade. Removing it, there was a soft _ca-clunk_ as a new one took its place.   
The kid was still here, and that pissed Metal off to no end. He didn’t know why he still stayed- Dr. Wily explained his actual plan to the kid and how the kid is basically going to be stuck here until Dr. Wily’s plan is seen through to the end if he joins. Yet he is still staying. Even after he’s named fucking _Bubble_ he’s still staying.   
Metal threw the blade, and watched it deform the head and get lodged in the pillar behind it. _Bubble_. Metal should say something to Dr. Wily about how he renames the corpses he digs up.   
Metal reached up and grabbed another saw blade, another _ca-clunk_ as his mind went to another problem. He didn’t know how to handle Dr. Light and Rock. Seeing them unnerved him and set him on edge for what seemed like the longest time and he still can’t figure out why, and he didn’t even know why they were _there_ this time. He’s shopped there many times for Dr. Wily, but why hadn’t he seen them before?  
A part of him wants to fight Rock he will admit. He wants to prove that he’s fitted with the most advanced technology and no mere _robot_ could replace him. But he doesn’t even know that Rock is a robot- he could be a cyborg.   
Thinking about Rock and Dr. Light just gave him a headache, so he threw the thought away with his saw blade. He didn’t _have_ to worry about that right now anyways. Right now he was in Dr. Wily’s castle with the others. Air was up and about again. Metal was hesitant to let him even after Dr. Wily gave him the green light. What if his fan shut down again? What if Metal wasn’t there to help- why wasn’t Metal there right now in case something happens?   
Metal shook his head. No, Air was fine. The only reason his fan shut off in the first place was because that was the bare minimum Dr. Wily had at the time. Now he should have no problems.   
“Hey doctor,” a voice called out, echoing in the big training room. Metal looked behind him to see, speak of the devil, Air.   
“Hope you’re not here to train,” Metal said as he walked over to the dummy. He moved to the back of the pillar to let it free.   
“Of course not,” Air would have smirked, walking over to where Metal had been standing just moments ago and lifted his hand towards the training dummy, his thumb and finger extended like a little toy gun, “I don’t need to.”   
“Don’t need to?” Metal prompted, loosening the rope enough to pick up the remains of the dummy and stuffing off the floor. He walked back over and started cleaning up, his head lifting to see that Air was aiming at him. “You don’t need to be training, true. You need to be resting if anything.”  
Air shrugged, “Not really. I’m stretching my _legs_ \- oh wait, you wouldn’t get it.” Air laughed as Metal stood back up, leaving the rest of the mess scattered about. Metal raised a hand and tapped his temple, “You got me there I suppose. But I’m still a- _head_ of you in every other way.”  
Air scoffed, “Please. I’m newer, I should have the better technology _obviously_.”   
Metal shrugged, grabbing the arm of the dummy, “Wily should have stopped while he was ahead, but he made you. Oh well.”   
“You’re just a prototype for the perfection that is I.”   
“You’re chest is literally a fan,” Metal said, and watched Air get flustered- trying to say something in retaliation but the only sounds coming out were stutters and defeated curses. Metal laughed slightly, watching Air cross his arms and turn towards the door to avoid looking at him.   
There was a moment of silence before-   
“You’re right. I _am_ just a walking fan,” Air said, as if suddenly just coming to the realization himself.   
Metal burst out laughing, watching Air look back at him with squinted eyes. “Oh my god, you’re just now noticing?”   
Air was still for a moment, still looking at the door. His shoulders shook for a second, before he suddenly burst out laughing too, “Yeah! Wow, I’m stupid.” Metal propped himself up with his hands on his knees, dropping what he had picked up. He realized he hadn’t actually have a good laugh in a long time, his voice box slowing to a stop as he calmed down.   
Metal moved over to Air and patted his back as the two of them recovered, “Yeah, good luck with thinking of a comeback for that one.”   
Air would have raised an eyebrow at Metal if he had any visible ones, “Oh, once I do you won’t stand a chance.”   
Metal nodded, “Looking forward to it.” He turned and went back to cleaning up the stuffing off the floor, picking it up and dropping it in a large bin near the wall. Air stepped back to lean against the wall as he watched, “So, what have you been doing in here?”   
“Taking my mind off things.”   
“Things like that new guy?”   
Metal nodded, bending over to pick up the last bit of things. Air shrugged, “He has been hanging around Dr. Wily a lot, helping him out with my repairs.”   
“Repairs?”   
“Ah-just upkeep things. Don’t worry about it,” Air clarified. Metal closed the lid to the large bin and walked over to Air, shaking the tension from practice out of his hands. Metal took in a breath before he was interrupted by the door opening.   
Dr. Wily, with his hands folded behind him, cleared his throat. “Metal. You are to accompany Bubble on his trip into the city.”   
Bubble stood behind Wily, his legs fitted with some kind of exoskeleton to help mobility. Evidently, he was still getting used to them as he was gripping tightly on a walker.   
“Yes sir,” Metal said, straightening his back before glancing over at Air. Air rolled his eyes, turning back to where the dummy had been tied up. Wily nodded, turning back and saying something to Bubble before leaving.   
“Wish I could go out to the city,” Air muttered under his breath, but his voice module made it a normal volume. Air seemed caught off-guard by the loudness of his voice and cleared his ‘throat’ before adding, “I mean- whatever. Have fun.”   
Metal walked up to the door where Bubble was standing, “Yeah. See you in a bit.”

* * *

Metal followed Bubble around town, the two of them having left their armor (and Bubble leaving the walker) at the castle. Metal mostly just watched Bubble in an awkward silence as he bought different things from mechanics and such. Metal ended up being the mule, carrying boxes and bags.   
Eventually Bubble got hungry, so they decided to stop by a small restaurant to get something to eat at some breakfast cafe. They found a table off to itself in a corner.   
Bubble flipped through their menu, every once in a while glancing up at Metal.   
“Aren’t you hungry, Mr. Metal? We’ve been out for most of the day,” Bubble asked, motioning to the menu Metal hadn’t touched. Metal shrugged after a moment, crossing his arms and looking about the cafe. He hadn’t realized how long their trip was taking until he saw the purple-gold hue of afternoon through the windows.  
“I don’t really… get hungry?” Metal tried to explain. He wasn’t quite sure of the specifics himself.   
“Woah, you don’t?” Bubble asked, folding his menu closed and setting it to the side, his attention fully on the cyborg before him.   
Metal chuckled, hand scratching his chin, “Yeah. Most of my insides are gears and wires and well… I mean, I do eat. I have to keep the squishy and goo-y part of my body alive, but I usually just eat something in the morning and that’s it. I don’t ever feel the need to eat, I just do it to keep moving.”   
Bubble’s eyebrows shot up, letting out another ‘woah’, “So you’re like, mostly robot?” He leaned forward, almost pulling himself up onto the table.   
“Guess so. Wouldn’t you already know this, since you’re working under Dr. Wily?”   
Bubble sighed, leaning back, “Nah, he doesn’t really trust me yet.”   
A waitress came by to take their orders, she came back a second later with drinks- a coke with cherry flavoring for Bubble and a water for Metal that Bubble insisted he get. Bubble didn’t move his eyes off Metal as he took a sip of his drink. Metal raised an eyebrow, expecting Bubble to say something but, he didn’t. He just stared at Metal.   
“What are you doing?”   
“Waiting for you to take a drink.”   
“Why?”   
“I want to see what’s under your mask,” Bubble said, tilting his head to the side, “I’m curious.”   
“I don’t want to show you,” Metal said. Dr. Wily was the only person to have seen him without his mask on. Seeing his face just reminded him of… reminded… Well, reminded him to turn the lights off before removing it next time.  
“ _Please_!!” Bubble whined, “Come on, I gotta know!”   
“How old are you again?” Metal asked with an entertained huff.   
“Old enough to drink, now what’s under the mask?”   
Metal looked throughout the cafe, his mind racking up a plan. There weren’t many other patrons inside, and almost all of them were on the other end of the cafe. Metal chose not to notice their weary glances towards his face and Bubble’s legs. He pretended it was instead aimed towards the boxes and bags Metal had set down when they were seated.   
“You’ll have to answer a few questions first, then I’ll show you,” Metal finally said, bringing his elbows up to the table and folding his fingers together. Bubble gave him a strange look, before nodding.   
“And no lying.”   
Another nod.   
“Why are you here?”   
“To eat some great waffles.”   
“Why are you _here_ , at the castle with Dr. Wily?”   
Bubble brought a hand up to his chin, eyes surveying the ceiling as his foot tapped, “To help out! Think I’ve told you this before.”   
“Who are you helping?”   
“A buddy of mine,” Bubble said quickly, “Not Dr. Wily if you’re wondering. Though, I guess if I end up helping him do whatever it is he’s doing that’s fine too.”   
Fuck, now Metal just had more questions than answers. Bubble pointed to his face, “Now, show me!”   
“Nah.”   
“Oh come on! You said you would!”   
“I lied.”   
“You said no lying! Come on, play fair!” Bubble whined before taking another sip of his drink, “You suck.”   
“Yeah, whatever,” Metal rolled up the paper from his straw into a little ball. So Bubble was helping out a friend? Is he like… a spy? This kid? Metal looked back up to see him looking out the window at a bird on the sidewalk. No way. He must be working whatever job he could get to save up money for someone or something. “How exactly are you helping out your friend?”  
Bubble shook his head, “No way. You won’t take off your mask so I have no incentive to answer any further questions.”   
“There’s nothing else I can do to convince you?”  
“Nothing I would believe.”   
“No bribing?”   
“I’m not a kid,” Bubble said, giving him a glare.   
“Not even ice cream?” Metal asked. He had meant to get some at the store before he ran into Rock and Light. Hell, if he could get ice cream and the name of whoever Bubble’s friend is? Nice.   
Bubble stuck his bottom lip out in a contemplative pout before reluctantly saying, “ _Maybe_.”   
So after their meal (Bubble was the only one to eat, and was very disappointed that Metal hadn’t even touched the water), Metal kept an eye out for an ice-cream shop on their way back to the castle. Metal pointed at a parlor, and Bubble’s eyes lit up. Bubble got a double scoop of chocolate. Metal ended up buying a small tub of some flavor he’d never had before.   
Insisting Bubble ate it on the way back, Metal dropped his tub in one of the bags. The two of them once again started walking back to the castle. It was a long walk, and kind of comedic that out of all the things Wily had in his castle he lacked a car.   
“How is it?” Metal asked absentmindedly as he looked up at the sky. It looked like it was going to rain.   
“Mmm, great!” Bubble hummed cheerfully. Silence loomed over them again. Metal looked back down at the road and kicked a small stone off the path, “Who’s your friend? How exactly are you helping them out?”   
“Not tellin’.”   
“But you-“   
“I said _maybe_ , and _you_ lied anyways. Did you really think you could convince me with sugar?” Bubble snickered, tapping Metal’s arm with the little plastic spoon he was given.  
“Worth a shot,” Metal shrugged before lifting his arms to shake the bags he was carrying, “What are these things anyway? What does Dr. Wily have you doing?”   
“Boring stuff, mostly. You know how in TV shows there’s a doctor doing surgery and he’s all like ‘ _scalpel_ ’ and sticks his hand out and there’s a nurse in the background handing him stuff? That’s basically what I’m doing,” Bubble sighed, “I know how to do a lot of stuff, he just doesn’t trust me yet.”   
“Are you the doctor, or nurse?”  
“Is that a serious question?”   
“What kind of stuff do you know how to do?”   
“Just stuff. Stuff _you_ wouldn’t know how to do.”   
Metal took in a breath to defend his capabilities, before Bubble took another bite of ice cream.   
“Hey, you’re the one who said you couldn’t even build a lever, and I am the one studying under Dr. Wily. What else would I be doing? Being a vet?”   
Metal glared at him, but Bubble didn’t pay him any mind. Metal heard a little ‘ _plit plat_ ’ and looked down to find a raindrop on his arm. “Come on, let’s just get to the castle.”   
“But I like the rain,” Bubble said as he purposefully slowed his pace.   
“My joints don’t,” Metal responded, and just as he said that the sky decided it would be the perfect time to begin pouring. 

* * *

“Ff _fuck_ ,” blood bubbled in the back of his throat and threatened to leak out of his mouth with every shaky breath he took. His face stung- rocks from the concrete cutting into his cheek and temple and his other cheek subject to the pouring rain. His ears were still ringing and his back- his back- His eyes were open- but he couldn’t see anything, at least not make anything out.  
“I’m - _nng_ …” Pain shot through the numbness and hate currently enveloping his brain, “I’m going to ff _fucking_ kill the _shit_ out of all of them…” With his words the blood spilled, dripping down his lips and to his chin in a hot streak of deep red. His throat was hoarse, and he could hear sirens in the distance. Slowly, different sounds came into focus.   
He could hear fire battling against the rain.  
His heart was thumping loud in his ears and shaking his chest with every beat.  
Voices. He could hear voices- slowly growing in numbers. Very slowly, but _surely_ they were growing.  
He could feel someone grabbing his arm, pulling him away from… He- he couldn’t feel his lower half. He couldn’t feel his legs- move them- anything. The numbness in his brain was no longer comforting, if it ever was. Hate was redirected to determination.  
His eyes threatened to flutter, but he forced himself awake. Forced himself to feel what he _could_ , which was pain shooting through his body and a particularly stabbing pain down his back. He could feel something hot in his throat- blood, he reminded himself. The hot burning in his throat and down his waist and chin was a stark contrast to the cold rain soaking him to the bone. The person that had grabbed his arm- his grip slipped a few times. With every slip, he could hear the voices louden for a second, possibly out of concern.  
He was set back on the ground, hands leaving his arm and the voices growing louder. Someone touched his chest, then their hands moved lower till he couldn’t feel them anymore. He sucked in another hissy breath through gritted teeth. He still had a hard time seeing anything but sharp points of light- flashlights?   
All he could taste was blood. Blood. Blood. _Blood_.   
“ _I’m going to fucking kill them all…_ ”  
He heard a scream among the voices. Fuck, this would probably be on the news.

* * *

Air looked out at the balcony, a thin plate of glass being the only thing separating him from the torrential downpour outside. Metal and Bubble were late getting back. Soon after the two of them left, Dr. Wily retreated back into his little workshop. That left Air having the rest of the literal castle all to himself.   
His first idea was to read every book he could get his hands on, but soon found that most of them Dr. Wily was keeping to himself. How could Dr. Wily be so cruel as to deny his genius growth? Air was tempted to get sneaky- but he suddenly remembered that the only reason he was currently standing outside the window looking out at the rain was because of the doctor. Unfortunately it appears Air owed him that.   
Air wasn’t _opposed_ to working with Dr. Wily, he just didn’t think he would enjoy it that much. He’s viewing it as a means to an end.   
Metal had to own a few books, surely he wouldn’t mind if Air borrowed one while he was away. Air turned away form the window and started towards… well, he paused to think. He wasn’t quite sure _where_ Metal’s room was.   
No worries! Air is fully capable of finding it himself. In fact, he’s more than capable and there is no doubt in his mind he could find it within the hour. He continued walking towards where the bedrooms were. He at least knew those. Only around 8 in total. Wily’s was in another end of the castle.   
His was at the very beginning of the hallway. He was moved there when he first arrived, but he didn’t really remember any of that. Air was just relying on what Metal had told him. _Apparently_ he was still in a coma at the time.   
Well, Air started with the room across from his. Opening the door, he saw it was decorated the exact same way as his— bed, bedside table, ceiling fan, just not a window. No personalizations whatsoever. Then, he tried the room beside his, then the one across from that, then the next and the next— making a zig-zag. In the room two down from his he opened the door to see some difference! Yay, someone else’s room and not just another vacant one!   
The window was left open, curtains pulled back. There was a luggage bag at the foot of the bed, which was made neatly, and the bedside table had a little thumb drive laying atop it. Wait- upon closer inspection Air found it wasn’t a thumb drive but instead some tiny device. He couldn’t tell what it was for.   
Air stepped into the room, tempted to close the window to block out the rain but if he did that would leave some hint of intrusion. Instead, he just inspected the little gadget. It had tiny engravings on the side, like a bar code. There were no exposed wires, but two little buttons on the face.   
Air thought about what it could be. It might still be a thumb drive, just a one with a trick up its sleeve. Either way, this wasn’t what he was looking for. This didn’t feel like Metal’s room, so Air turned to leave. 


	5. Questionable Help

Air looked over at the new guy, then across the room at Metal. Metal didn’t even seem like he was mentally present, his constantly exhausted eyes dazed over with thought. The new guy, who was talking Air’s audio receptors off, looked over at Metal and snickered.   
“What’s with _that_ guy?”   
“Second in command,” Air responded. Well, he assumed that was the case. Metal was here before him, before any one else. Air was… pretty sure Metal would have said something along those lines anyways. “Listen to him when he tells you to do something.”   
“Oh of _course_ ,” The new guy said, rolling his eyes and turning on his heels- which were new. His legs were fitted with an exoskeleton not much different than Bubble’s old one. If Air didn’t know better he would have thought they were the same pair passed down. But there was enough of a difference to prevent him from thinking that, such as the fact that the new guy’s exoskeleton crawled up the back of his spine.  
Air watched the new guy walk out of the room to investigate the rest of the castle before turning back to Metal. Air was surprised Metal hadn’t said a word since returning to the castle late with Bubble. The two of them had been soaking wet when they finally arrived.   
“The rain didn’t fizzle out your voice box, did it?” Air joked. He was tempted to top it off with a little snicker but he was still figuring out how to laugh without sounding completely monotone. Metal didn’t respond, didn’t look over at him. He was still deep in thought.   
Air walked over and nudged his shoulder, “Hey doctor, talking to you.”   
Metal swatted his hand away with a quiet, “Yes yes, you can.”   
“Oh thank you so much, I was so concerned you wouldn’t allow me to do whatever it is I had asked you. But now I know you don’t mind,” Air said, sarcasm dripping in his voice. Seriously, what was Metal thinking about? “Come on dude, is this about that new guy?”   
“New guy?”   
“Oh come on, he was just in here?” Air crossed his arms, “The guy would not shut up.”   
“Humorous, coming from you.”   
“What’s on your mind, doctor?”   
Metal was quiet, suddenly his posture changed. He relaxed, bringing his hands up to his hip and leaning his head back and to the side, as if to marvel at the wonderful architecture of the wall behind Air. “Well…”   
“Is this still about Bubble?”   
“Yeah-”   
Air managed to get a sigh in before Metal continued.   
“I still don’t get why he’s here. I’ve been trying to figure it out, but he won’t say anything,” Metal drooped his head, “I just want to know why he’s working for Dr. Wily.”   
“What about the new guy? Interested in why he’s working for Dr. Wily? Because I’m sure he’ll tell you. Tell you that and tell you about ten other topics,” Air rolled his eyes, “But why does it bother you so much? You can’t do anything about it.”   
“I know that- it’s just,” Metal paused to form an explanation, but gave up with the lowering of his shoulders, “I don’t know. It just doesn’t make sense.”   
“Are you trying to protect Dr. Wily?”   
“Protect that bastard- I mean, no. I’m not. I’m doing this for me,” Metal said, crossing his arms and walking towards the door, “I’m doing this for me.” 

* * *

Metal felt like he was so close to figuring out Bubble. He was just missing a tiny piece that would make the picture so much more clear. Metal was making his rounds about the castle when he heard metallic _clinks_ from inside the storage room. Walking up to the large double doors, Metal hesitated before pushing them open. He hoped it wasn’t the new guy that Air had mentioned.   
Instead, Bubble was sitting cross-legged off to the side with his exoskeleton still clamped around his legs. Seems like he was getting the hang of them better. He wore a band to keep the hair out of his face while his hands were buried deep in an early model of Metal’s armor, wires spilling out onto the floor. Behind Bubble stood where the robotic skeleton once hung from a heavy-duty clothing rack. Metal closed the door behind him.  
Bubble lifted his head to nod a greeting at Metal with a little ‘sup’.   
He was doing this for himself.  
Metal walked over, glaring down at Bubble and crossing his arms. Air had mentioned one time crossing his arms made him look a little more intimidating.   
“Who are you helping out?” Metal asked. Bubble immediately furrowed his brow and frowned. He turned away from Metal and pried his hands out from the chest piece Metal once wore.   
“Why should I tell you?” Bubble asked, rubbing the pain from his wrist. Metal’s audio receptors picked up a soft grumble afterwards, ‘Why did I expect you to ask anything different?’  
He was doing this for himself, Metal repeated silently. Metal took in a breath as he thought. Bribes wouldn’t work. Metal tapped his fingers on his arm before leaning over.   
Bubble turned back around to be face to face with Metal- their noses almost touching. Metal held his glare firm, his face would have been scowling. The air between them was only moved by Bubble’s shallow breaths.   
“Because if you don’t, I’ll saw you into so many tiny pieces that when Wily’s finished patching you up, you’ll be the most advanced example of cybernetics the world has ever seen,” Metal threatened, uncrossing his hands to bring one up to Bubble’s shirt collar.   
Bubble flinched- but tried his best to hide it, his eyes still glaring back at Metal. Damn, Metal wished Bubble’s eyes would betray him. Was he the only one to struggle with that?  
“Tell me what you’re doing here,” Metal ordered, measured clicks softly sounding from his tightening fist.   
Bubble hesitated, his hands slowly releasing each other and one pulling up to loosely grab Metal’s fistful of collar. Metal may have been made of iron and bolts, but Bubble’s blank glare was absent of any warmth. It was cold- calculated. Metal felt as if he was finally making out that last piece of the puzzle. That last fraction of the problem- _the last bit he needed_. Bubble took in a slow, deep breath.  
“I told you already. I’m here to help,” Bubble said, his other hand resting on Metal’s old chest piece.   
“ _Fuck_!” Metal blurted out, free hand twitching to yank on Bubble’s hair. Pin him to the ground and choke the answer out of him. …Why was he suddenly feeling so volatile?  
“Help _who_? _That damned Dr. Light?_ ” Metal said, partially unaware of his voice rising. The other part didn’t care.  
“No, I-“ Bubble started, hand around Metal’s tightening.   
“Or how about his little _pet robot_?” Metal would have spat.   
“He’s not-“   
Metal kicked the old chest plate to the side, wires trailing behind it. He quickly turned back and grabbed Bubble’s collar with both hands, easily yanking him up from his spot on the floor. Bubble let out a yelp of surprise but quickly regained his composure, hands reaching up to meet Metal’s. His legs, on the other hand, weren’t ready for the sudden movement so they hung limp, joints involuntarily loosening.  
“Oh so he is a cyborg? How the hell do you know?” Metal said, voice box letting out a mechanical crack. Perhaps he was putting too much strain on it but-   
“I’m not helping either of them! I just know them, okay?” Bubble said- rising his voice to force Metal to listen to him. Metal wasn’t quite sure what to say. He didn’t interrupt Bubble this time, and decided to let him explain as Metal continued to hold him above the ground. Metal could hear Bubble’s exoskeleton let out clicks and clanks as the joints slowly prepared for a standing position.   
“I’ll admit that. I know the two of them but you need to _back the fuck off_!” Bubble said, hands tightening and trying to pry Metal’s digits off of him. Yeah, good luck, Metal thought. Flesh and bone against steel?  
“Not until you give me answers. Dr. Wily is a genius but he’s _insane_.” Metal pulled Bubble a little closer to emphasize his last word. Bubble’s breaths had deepened but his eyes stayed as cold as ever.   
“I know-“  
“You don’t need to be here. Why-“   
“No I have to be here!” Bubble practically yelled into Metal’s face, eyes finally breaking the facade and revealing a neat package of frustration Bubble had been hiding., “Dr. Wily _is_ a genius! He might just be the _smartest_ man alive right now, and that’s why I’m here-“  
“To help him take over the world? To help him kill innocents with the very robotics you’re studying?” Metal tilted his head towards the chest piece kicked to the side.   
“No! I’m here to help you-“  
“ _Who are you to be offering help to me?_ ” Metal yelled, and another crack of strain from his voice box. If he wasn’t so focused on Bubble he would have heard his voice echo-ing in the large storage room.   
“Who do you think you are?” Metal continued, “What the _fuck_ do you even _think_ you know about me?”   
He dropped (more like threw onto the ground) Bubble- who stumbled for footing. Metal clenched his fists and held them still to his side. He just wanted to fucking rip Bubble’s hair from his head- pummel his face into the ground and rip the answers from his corpse.   
Bubble caught himself before he fell flat on his ass and Metal half expected him to take a few steps back, or run out of the room, or try to grab a weapon of some sort- but instead Bubble fixed his shirt and took a few steps closer to Metal so they were face to face again. Bubble raised a finger and jabbed at Metal as he started-   
“I know that you- and Air, and- and a little girl out there are very desperate for this kind of technology,” He motioned over to the chest piece and then towards the large shelf of iron sheets, “A lot of people are. And I know that you are cornered into working with a madman that is keeping this all to _himself_.” Metal could see tears prick the corners of his eyes, and his voice began to waver. It seemed his eyes could betray him.  
Metal’s anger didn’t fade away, but he was going to let Bubble explain himself for a moment.  
“I know that other people deserve to get the treatment he’s using as _bait_. And I’m here to _help you_ , along with many other people. I’m working with someone to get this information out. To help you and make sure neither you nor anyone else has to rely on him,” Bubble’s voice cracked as he finished his spiel, “I’m the _good guy_.”   
Metal silently and motionlessly watched Bubble wipe away the little beginning of tears from his eyes and regain his composure. Soon enough, Bubble was standing before him as if nothing had happened- the only trace being the tints of red on his nose and around his eyes.   
The room was silent, Metal was tempted to look at the space and marvel at the atmosphere he had created. He could hear Bubble’s now shaky breaths as he racked his brain around what he had said. Metal was thankful the door had been closed. He couldn’t imagine if Air or Wily or- or that new guy had walked in on them.   
“You’re the good guy?” Metal repeated quietly, sure to remove any emotion from his repeat. His voice box sounded scratchy, like a broken speaker. He hadn’t noticed it until now.   
“Yes,” Bubble said with a sigh. Metal couldn’t tell if it was relief or something else. “Are you? Dr. Novem, are you one of the good guys?”   
Metal glared down at Bubble. He felt like his wires were in a knot. He should feel happy right? He was glaring down at a solved puzzle. The finished problem, the answered equation. But… Bubble never did answer his question of who, did he?  
Bubble watched him turn and push the much-too-large-doors open and exit the storage room. Before Metal slammed the doors shut, before he turned and walked down the hallway to some unknown destination he said with his scratchy messed up voice box, “I told you. My name’s not Dr. Novem.” 

* * *

Metal reached over the arm of the couch, feeling for the tip of a little maroon robot he liked to fiddle with in his spare time. He had left it there but alas it seemed to be missing. Damn, that meant he would be alone with his thoughts. Metal could go practice, but he was almost certain that the new guy was there. He didn’t even know the guy’s name, but he didn’t care to find out.   
“Doctor,” a familiar voice said, and Metal turned to see Air plopping down onto the couch beside him. Metal let out an unimpressed ‘hmm’. Metal was surprised Bubble hadn’t said anything else, that he didn’t try to follow Metal out of the storage room.   
“Yeah, saw Bubble pick up your little robot earlier today,” Air said. Metal sighed, but with his broken voice box just made it sound like static.   
“What the fuck was that?” Air laughed- caught off guard.   
“Messed up by voice box,” Metal tried to explain as little as he had to.   
“Ah. I’m really surprised you aren’t hanging with the new guy,” Air said, and Metal could trace a little hint of something in his voice. Was it… humor? Entertainment? Whatever it is Metal thought it didn’t quite fit Air.   
“Why is that?”   
“Oh, nothing,” Air turned away from Metal and grabbed the tv remote from the other arm of the couch, turning on the little television. What? Was the new guy another puzzle like Bubble? But wait- no, Air had said he was like an open book. Constantly talking.   
Air’s turned on subtitles before flipping through the channels. He didn’t really want to watch another car movie. The news was covering something trivial, there was a claymation film on a kids channel, but nothing caught Air’s eyes. Air instead resigned himself to picking at the arm of the couch where a string had come undone.   
“Air…”   
Metal’s voice was quiet- his broken voice almost completely enveloped it in static. Perhaps if he had been speaking louder he would have been clearer. Air was surprised at Metal’s tone, and looked over to see him leaned over- arms crossed and elbows on his knees, his head hung.   
“What is it doctor?” Air asked, keeping the humorous tone to his voice.   
“Why are you working for Dr. Wily?” Metal asked, not turning to meet Air’s puzzled optics. There was a pause, Metal could hear a soft _tink_ as Air most likely brought a hand up to where his chin would be. 

“To bring an end to this,” Air said, fan ‘wrr’ing a little louder, “Seems funny since we haven’t actually done anything yet. But I guess I’m trying to do… what I think is the right thing.”

“Bring an end to _what_?” Metal asked, a stinging feeling rising in his eyes. Why was this feeling forming- how did he stop it.

“Bring an end to fighting. If there’s a winner, a complete trump card that over rules everything, then you have the power to make peace- yeah? Guess I’m doing this for peace.”

“We’re going to _fight_. That’s not peace,” The pain in his eyes only grew- Metal blinked and suddenly he realized. Realized he hadn’t cried in a long, long time.

“Means to an end, then. And besides, we aren’t fighting right now, are we? We’re just sitting here, awaiting orders.” 

“Waiting for the vulture to dig up more skeletons.”   
Air nodded, “Yeah, I guess so.” He felt so weird talking about this. He felt like this was really private, but at least no one else was in the room. It was just the two of them and the tv. His eyes had wandered around the room so be brought them back to Metal to see him… shaking? It was slight, but there.   
“Hey, doctor…” Air started, “What’s wrong?”   
Metal didn’t say anything- his voice box letting out a quick squeak of static, then a second. Air’s weird feeling only grew. Was Metal crying? Fuck, uh…   
“What’s wrong?” Air repeated. Metal still didn’t respond. Air did the only thing that came to mind, which was slowly reach over to Metal’s hand on his arm, and tap it. Metal didn’t look at him- the shaking and soft noises getting worse.   
“I just… I don’t know. I don’t know,” Metal said, his hand slowly grabbing Air’s. Slow enough that if Air could pull his hand away if he wanted. Air didn’t, and instead felt Metal’s grip on his hand tighten.   
Metal felt tears drip down his face- clouding his vision and gathering at the seam of his mask. Was he a good guy? Was Air? Were they… good? Is this the right thing? A headache formed alongside the questions. Sure, Metal didn’t like what Wily was doing. But had he been helping Wily? Was he helping by not trying to stop him? Was it even possible to remain neutral in this situation? All of these questions- he needed to feel.   
Feel something- so he felt Air’s hand in his own as he tightened his grip. He tried to ground himself, focusing on the hot tears instead of the burning questions. He heard Air say something, but he couldn’t focus on that right now. He couldn’t- he tried anyways. Was it static? No it was hushing. Metal felt a weight on his back.   
He couldn’t hold it back anymore- letting out cries reminiscent of a broken machine- his voice box struggling to make the noises. He hated it, but the sounds kept coming as tears dripped and breathing stung. His voice wasn’t made to cry, but here he was.   
He felt so fucking lost, trying to find something. To find an answer. The puzzle pieces seemed to fit together so well but they crumbled apart in his hands. He had been doing this for himself, right? So why was it ruining him right now?  
_Tap tap tap_  
Air’s hand, despite being squeezed hard by Metal’s, was still free enough to tap ever so softly. Metal focused on that. Focusing his audio receptors to only listen to those. Don’t listen to his shaky breaths he struggled to control. Focus on the tapping, the fact that Air was still right there. Air was in a similar spot to Metal, both of them here because they had no where else to turn to. Metal wasn’t alone in his questions, he told himself. Metal managed to calm himself down. Just enough so he would stop making the fucking _noises_.   
Air said something else, Metal finally lifted his head and turned to see Air wasn’t looking at him. He was looking at the door- oh fuck who saw him who saw him no one needed to see him like this oh fuck- Metal ripped his hand away from Air and quickly tried to wipe away the tears. His cold metal hands were clumsy- almost jabbing himself in the eye.   
Air pulled his hands back, folding them in his lap as he turned back to watch Metal recover. “You okay, doctor?”   
Metal shook his head and stood up, “No. Who was that? Who did you talk to- who.”   
“It was Dr. Wily,” Air started, “He said something about LeMarc before turning and storming out.”   
Fuck fuck Dr. Wily? No. Metal was supposed to be second in command. Dr. Wily told him to get ahold of himself, to not act like a child. Metal’s supposed to be more take-charge yet here he was _crying_? Metal balled his hand into a fist and hit the arm of the couch- making Air flinch. Sudden anger slowly melted into confusion, “Wait, LeMarc? Why would he be talking about LeMarc?”   
“Oh yeah,” Air laughed as he looked away from Metal, “He’s the new guy I was talking about. You were completely lost in thought for a while there, and I figured when you found out, and sub sequentially freaked out, it would be hilarious.”   
“LeMarc? Fucking. _LeMarc_?”   
“Yeah…?”   
“Fuck you,” Metal huffed, standing up from the couch and rubbing his face one last time for good measure. He hoped the hints of red he saw on Bubble weren’t on his own face. What a fucking roller-coaster, he thought. He needed to sort everything out for a minute.   
Air watched Metal turn and walk towards the door, “Going to fangirl over your movie star?”   
“No. I’m going to find something to shove into your fan,” Metal called back, opening the door and leaving.   
“Oh fuck you too,” Air rolled his eyes, turning back to the tv. 


	6. Awaiting Orders

“Metal, report to my office immediately.” 

Well, fuck. Metal thought, pulling himself away from the railing. He had been watching the sunset and birds as he sorted out his feelings. However, Dr. Wily’s voice just had to crackle to life through a speaker in the room behind him. Metal turned and walked back inside the castle. 

Hopefully this wasn’t Dr. Wily scolding him again. The worry manifested itself as a tight feeling in the back of his throat. Maybe it was Dr. Wily about to talk abut how awful Metal is, and how he needed to pull himself together. How he was a complete disappointment. 

Metal passed Air in the hallway, nodding a quick greeting as he continued. No, that probably wouldn’t be what Dr. Wily was summoning him for, but…

Metal neared Dr. Wily’s office and pulled open the door. 

Dr. Wily’s office was more like a war room. In the centre there was a large hologram table currently projecting a miniature version of Monsteropolis, different roads and buildings marked in red. Behind the table, opposite of the door, the wall was covered in screens of varying sizes. Below said screens Dr. Wily’s actual desk sat covered in buttons and keyboards and many other things Metal didn’t care about. The right wall had a shelf and a few metal cabinets- all of which were practically overflowing with schematics and crumpled papers.

Dr. Wily was standing in-between his desk and the table, his hands gripping the edge of the table and his eyes scowling at the city below him. He raised a hand and motioned Metal to shut the door behind him, and Metal did so quietly. 

Metal had only been in Dr. Wily’s office a handful of times, but he could still tell when something was out of place- and right now the major offender was a particular figure leaning against the left wall. His lower half starting at about the hip was encased in shiny grey and red armor. That was more than the metal frame Bubble wore.

“LeMarc,” Metal said with a nod. 

LeMarc gave Metal a wink, before looking back at the screens. It felt weird seeing him in person. Metal remembered watching a movie about him, seeing his races on hospital televisions, and seeing his horrible accident on the news. Guess the world is a smaller place than Metal had thought. If they weren’t meeting here before the vulture, Metal could have seen himself asking for an autograph- just to say he had one. He wasn’t that big of a fan, he re-assured himself. It just seemed like the normal thing to do in that kind of situation. 

Anyways- enough thinking about LeMarc.

Dr.Wily lifted his head and looked between Metal and LeMarc, “I have a mission for you two.”

“Why us?” LeMarc asked, tilting his head to the side. 

“I assume it’s because Bubble is not built for fighting and Air’s tech is still… somewhat temperamental,” Metal suggested, taking a few steps from the door to stand across from Dr . Wily. 

“Correct,” Dr. Wily said, lowering his head again. Metal felt a tiny speck of a warmth under his skin. Metal watched him tap something on the table, and suddenly the map zoomed out until the castle came to view. 

“You two are going to retrieve a piece of intel from this location-“ A few more button presses and a red line reached out from the castle. It stretched across the map before arriving at a facility just outside city limits. “It will be marked on your map,” Dr. Wily said, standing up strait, his eyes looking over Metal’s earpieces. 

Metal tried not to glare back- he knew what Dr. Wily was saying. Dr. Wily wanted to integrate optics into Metal’s headpiece. Metal knew it would be a net positive, but as he’s said before- he doesn’t want an invasive surgery on his eyes. They may betray him, but they’re one of the few things he had left. Dr. Wily right now was reminding Metal how much extra work he had to put into transferring the visual map to an auditory medium.

“What _exactly_ should we be looking for?” LeMarc asked.

“You’ll _find_ it,” Dr. Wily bit back, “As I said. It will be marked on your map. Find the mark. If you are not smart enough to figure it out without a step-by-step walkthrough you-“ 

“It is a piece of intel. That is all we _need_ to know,” Metal interjected loudly, looking over at LeMarc. Metal couldn’t help but notice how disciplinary-like his voice sounded. Even so, his interjection was both in defense of LeMarc and in agreement with Dr.Wily. 

Metal turned back, and watched Dr. Wily for a response. For either anger or appraisal. 

“See, that’s why Metal is my right-hand-man. He doesn’t ask stupid questions,” Dr.Wily said. He didn’t sound that happy about it- his voice was still coated in a bitter tone. Hatred was still bubbling beneath Dr. Wily’s skin, but Metal felt an immediate weight lifted from his shoulders. Dr.Wily still viewed him as his most important- his most advanced.

Sure Metal could be stubborn about things, making Dr.Wily put in a little work- but he hadn’t been demoted. Dr.Wily is willing to go the extra mile for Metal. He’s sure. Metal’s sure that was the case- this was just how Dr.Wily told him. Giving him appraisal and silent words of appreciation by not insulting him. If it wasn’t coated in anger, or littered with curses, Metal knew it was just Dr. Wily being nice. It wasn’t a arm on Metal’s shoulder, but it was the closest he’d get. 

Metal looked back over at LeMarc to see him grumbling, frustrated with how secretive Dr.Wily is- Metal’s _sure_. 

“That is all. The two of you will leave this afternoon. LeMarc? Wait outside,” Dr.Wily ordered, motioning towards Metal- no wait, the door behind Metal. LeMarc said something, and then walked over towards the door. 

Metal took a step back, looking over. LeMarc gave him another wink, “Don’t slow me down.” Even with LeMarc forcing a cocky smirk, Metal could practically feel the frustration radiating off of him. Metal gave him a nod, “I’m the one who should be saying that.” 

If only they had met under different circumstances, Metal thought as he watched LeMarc walk out. From the back, Metal could make out the wires of integration weaving up his back and probably around his spine. That was all he needed to see to know that LeMarc’s only legs were metal now.

The door shut behind him, and it was only Metal and Dr. Wily left. When was the last time the two of them were alone? Was it before Air showed up? Metal turned back to face Dr. Wily, folding his hands neatly behind his back. 

Dr. Wily took in a breath- preparing himself. 

“Metal, I’m sure you share my view,” Dr. Wily started, and Metal nodded for him to continue. “As I gather more soldiers … _reliability_ and _trust_ becomes a concern. There is no good way to ensure absolute loyalty.” 

“Yes sir.”

“You… were my first. I am… sure that you- of all of my creations- would be loyal,” Dr. Wily paused a few times- thinking very hard about his choice of words. Metal stood still, but he felt a positive feeling wash over him, although faint it was warm at Dr. Wily’s words. Appraisal. Good words.

“I want you on this mission because I do not trust _him_ yet. And I _know_ you are loyal,” Dr. Wily said, voice stern as he glared at Metal, “You would not allow anyone to betray me.” 

With those words Metal could feel the floor sway underneath him. 

Dr. Wily knew, he knew Metal had talked with Bubble. That Metal talked with Bubble and found out and didn’t _report it back to him_. Guilt coiled in Metal’s gut, pangs of shame stabbing him. Wily trusted him- Metal was treacherous. A piece of total shit, who abandoned his duties and could be considered a friend to Bubble. 

Here Wily was having to remind Metal what he had signed up to do. Metal should have told Wily about Bubble immediately… Metal was supposed to- that’s what Wily trusted him to do. But- but another part of him remembered what Bubble said. 

“Dr. Wily…” Metal started quietly. Wily looked back down at the table, dismissing the map and instead decorating the table with statistics and schematics. “I have a question.” 

“Proceed.” 

“I… Are you… Is _this_ ,” Metal tried to ask. Wily watched him squirm and struggle to form a sentence. Is Metal a bad guy? Is Air? No- Air’s a good guy. Air’s a good guy that is just working with Wily right now. Metal could follow in Air’s steps- yeah. Metal’s hands- still behind his back- twitched in thought. Metal wasn’t a bad guy, just as Air wasn’t. It’s not like Metal wanted Wily to succeed he just…

“What is it,” Wily asked, not making the smallest attempt to hide the annoyance in his voice and posture. Metal shook his head. 

“It’s nothing, sir.”

Wily didn’t look away from him until Metal added, “Really. I was just concerned about what you were going to do while we were gone.” 

“The two of you are to leave this afternoon. I recommend you get ready.” Wily said, turning to the wall of computers, “And if I catch you crying again Air will be promoted. I have no time to deal with that weakness.” 

* * *

LeMarc had been waiting by the castle “gate” for Metal, red armor plating on his head, chest, and forearms in addition to his leg ‘braces’. His armor color probably would have been the same as Metal’s, if Metal’s wasn’t faded and discolored from wear and tear. 

Honestly, Air was relieved LeMarc wasn’t talking to him.

Air was currently standing to the side of the room, away from the door and _specifically_ away from LeMarc. His optics finally adjusted to the dark. There were no lights in the gate room- the ceiling was shorter than in the rest of the castle and there were pillars here and there. It had the same energy as a parking garage in the middle of the night. Air didn’t remember being in here his first time- when Dr. Wily first brought him into this cage of a castle. 

The gate room had many projects littering the floor. Robotic mice tipped over and robotic birds with little jets leaking oil. Seemed most everything in here was old and abandoned- playthings Dr. Wily got tired of. 

Air looked up when he heard a door open, and Metal walked in. Metal fit right in with the other robot carcasses. He didn’t like it when Air brought up where his armor was scratched or rusted, or when his movements would draw pained creaks and clicks. Metal was just another plaything. It was obvious to Air that Dr. Wily had grown tired of him, too. No matter what Metal insisted.

Air felt a pang in his chest as he watched Metal walk over to LeMarc- he couldn’t quite figure out the emotion. Was it worry? Whatever it was, it worsened when Metal gave him a glance and an ever-so-slight head nod of greeting. 

“Hey rusty, you ready?” LeMarc snickered, pulling himself away from the wall and cracking his knuckles. 

Air almost got a kick from watching LeMarc be ignored by both he and Metal, Metal walking over to a control panel beside the main door, opening it and pushing a few buttons. It took it a moment, clangs and pulley systems springing to life and echoing throughout the room. Sunlight filtered inside and Air decided to focus on the floor instead of the bright afternoon sun.

But he still looked up as Metal led the way outside, giving LeMarc a deadpan glare before exiting Air’s line of sight. Metal and LeMarc were gone. The large doors ran down a timer before shutting again, and the two were _officially_ gone. Away to do who knows, and Air forced a little more air out his fan in what could be considered a sigh. He didn’t know what he was expecting from this whole ordeal- seeing them out. 

Air took the free time to wander around the castle again. Still no new books, so that sucks. Wait! That guy- Bubble! He has to have some kind of book, probably something on electronics but _anything_ would suffice at this point. 

Air wandered around the castle looking for the guy. Honestly, Air was disappointed he had so much free time that he’s practically memorized the layout of the castle. Only thing he hadn’t was a few off-limit areas, but thankfully Bubble wasn’t there. 

Air walked down the hallway for their rooms, passing his and stepping up to the third down. A while ago he had deduced it was Bubble’s- and over time he only strengthened his belief. He never really saw Bubble enter or leave, but he sure as hell didn’t place the room to be Metal’s. Not that he found Metal’s room either, but at this point Air’s convinced Metal just _doesn_ ’t sleep. 

Through the door, Air could hear an out-of-place noise. It was a voice, just, not one he recognized. It was too deep to be Dr. Wily’s screeching, but it wasn’t cracking enough to be Bubble’s rambling.

Air stepped closer to the door, leaning in to make out any words. He slowed his ‘breath’ down and made sure his fan was as slow and soft as he could make it. Dr. Wily didn’t give him the best audio receptors. At first Air thought it was so he wouldn’t be hearing his own fan constantly, but now it seems Dr. Wily’s just cheap. He couldn’t make anything out, just that there were new sounds.

Bubble spoke up from inside his room, “Yes, of course. But it’s not like I’m alone here… Yeah! Him! I told you about him. I was worried at first but… yeah, no, yeah you’re right.” 

Air decided that trying to be sneaky left a bad taste in his mouth, so he kicked his fan up again and opened the door. 

Fortunately for him it was unlocked. 

And unfortunately for Bubble, Air doesn’t knock.

Bubble let out a yelp of surprise and fell back onto his bed, one hand stuffing something into his pocket and the other pulled back as if he was going to throw something at Air. Air looked over at Bubble- who was wearing the skeletal frame around his legs and in his ready-to-throw hand was a little maroon bot he recognized. 

“Haven’t you ever heard of-of knocking?” Bubble asked. 

Air took a glance around the room- there was the little suitcase he had seen in here before, but this time it was tucked neatly in the corner of the room under the window. Bubble’s armor was lying about the room, legs in one corner, arms in another. The only thing Air couldn’t immediately spot was the little gadget. 

“What’s up?” Bubble asked, recovering himself. He pushed himself up to a normal seating position on the edge of his bed, bringing his hands together in his lap with the little maroon robot. Air could practically see Bubble’s nervousness. 

“Do you have any books?” 

“Do I… what?” 

“Books?” 

“Oh yeah- uh,” Bubble nodded and looked around the room, “I should have some in here…” He leaned over to the bedside table, pulling the little drawer out and offering Air a book from inside, “Why do you need it?” 

“It gets boring here. At least you have work to do,” Air rolled his eyes, “ I’m pretty much on constant guard duty around here.” He grabbed the book and looked it over. His suspicions were completely off- it was some teen romance novel, the cover having a couple looking over a sunset from inside a castle. Looking back over at Bubble, Air couldn’t help but let out a laugh- which he was sure sounded a bit more normal. 

“What?” Bubble asked, before noticing which book he handed Air, “O-Oh that’s! Uh, well, it’s cute. It has a cute ending.” 

Air motioned over to the maroon bot still in his hands, “Where’d you get that?” 

Bubble’s eyes followed Air’s motion down before shrugging, “I found it. It was in awful disrepair so- so I’m trying to fix it up.” 

“That’s Metal’s,” Air noted. He’d seen Metal messing with it pretty often a while ago. He doubted Metal would just lose track of it. And ‘disrepair’? Air knew Metal sucked at electronics but he wasn’t _that_ bad. 

“Oh- is it?” 

“Yeah, he has a habit of leaving it around places. Make sure you give that back to him,” Air said, glancing back down at the book in his hand. 

“Ah. I think it’d be better if you gave it to him. I don’t think he really wants to see me around right now…” Bubble suggested, offering the robot. Air would have nodded- but he found it difficult without a real ‘head’. Instead he just kind of… leaned over and grabbed the bot. 

Turning away, Air walked over to the door. Behind him, he heard a quick click of static and he glanced back to see Bubble reaching into his pocket for something. Air was going to day something, but Bubble simply stood up and gave him a quick smile and motioned him out, “Thank- thank you!” 

* * *

“My god you never shut up,” Metal mumbled, kicking the base of a tree to knock off the mud from his soles. Everything was still a bit damp from a particularly strong rain. He looked over at LeMarc, who had his hands folded behind his head, as he watched Metal form afar. The night sky hung over them, the only light shining on them was from the large facility before them. The two of them were careful to stay within the forest- using the bushes as cover. 

The facility was surrounded on one side by gentle hills- thankfully that side was the direction they were coming from, so they currently have the high ground. On the flat side of ground- beyond the facility- Metal could see tall metal structures with webs upon webs of wires connecting hem. Utility poles? 

The parking lot was practically empty, thank goodness. Metal double checked his map. Seemed what they were coming for was inside the building. How were they to get in… how were they to get in…? 

Metal paced back and forth behind the bushes, hand brought up to his chin. 

“You seem to be the only one complaining about that,” LeMarc remarked. 

“That’s because I’m the only one here,” Metal grumbled, “You do realize that you’re no longer a driver, right? You have to forget that part of your life now.” 

“What, because you did? I’m still the best driver in the world, and I’m still Sherwin LeMarc. Which! By the way, Sherwin comes from Scirwine- which translates to sheer wind- which you better believe I am. _Still_.” 

Metal regretted ever opening his mouth. He couldn’t help but grumble as he moved back to the edge of the forest to get another look at the facility. He couldn’t see a lot of cameras- but he didn’t doubt they were there. 

“And who are you, huh? Who do you think you are talking to me like that?” 

“Someone who’s about to slit your throat,” Metal threatened, giving him a glare over his shoulder, “Dr. Wily can just as easily repurpose your parts as he gave them to you. I doubt he would be heartbroken if you didn’t come back in one piece.” 

“Ooohh so scary. Did you find how to get in yet?” 

“No. I’m not quite sure of the layout either, so that’s a problem,” Metal said, lowering his voice. There wasn’t anyone to hear them but Metal just wanted to be safe. 

“Run that again? You’re voice is too static-y.” 

“No. Don’t know the layout nor where the cameras are.” 

“Why are we trying to be sneaky? It’s not like anyone’s gonna catch us.” 

Metal mulled over the question for a moment. True, no one would probably recognize LeMarc now that he was in full armor but there are cameras. There have to be cameras. Even though there are almost no cars in the parking lot there could still be someone inside. Someone to call the cops on them or a security system. What was this facility even for? True there were Utility poles so was it some kind of electrical plant? 

“Because-“ Metal started, but suddenly LeMarc moved beside him- pushing his way through the bushes and making a running start towards down the hill.


	7. Mission

Metal stood up and stumbled after him, "LeMarc you _idiot_!" But by the time he had stood up LeMarc was already halfway down their little hill. Okay, so maybe he wasn't joking about being fast. Metal stood there for a second as he brought a hand up to his head, thinking about just standing there and letting LeMarc fumble his way through this mission alone. But Wily trusted him. Well, good thing Metal wasn't _actually_ considering that.

Metal huffed and started down the hill, slower than LeMarc as his brain tried to piece together a plan. He was so deep in thought he didn't notice the rock jutting out a bit too far and-

Metal yelled as he tripped over, stumbling flat onto his stomach. Mud wedged itself between his joints and got all over his face.

"Shit," Metal growled, pushing himself back up onto his feet. He- after regaining his balance and shaking with anger- followed LeMarc the rest of the way down. Seeing LeMarc tap his foot impatiently didn't help the situation at all.

"You looked so stupid when you fell, you know that?-" LeMarc started before getting interrupted by mud being lathered onto his face. He took a step back and let out cries of disgust as he rubbed his eyes and mouth.

" _You_ need to shut the fuck up," Metal said through gritted teeth, "And keep that on. You might get recognised on the cameras." It wasn't much to soothe his anger, but it would have to do for now. Taking a step back, he re-examined the closest wall of the large building.

Metal walked up to the nearest door, reaching up and grabbing a saw blade from his shoulder. With his free hand, Metal tried to pull open the door, but it was locked. As he had suspected. With a static-filled sigh, Metal took one last prideful glance at LeMarc's pathetic sputtering before turning and cutting the door in-between the wall and handle. Unlike the saws he used for training, these babies could cut through practically anything.

The door hung loosely, and Metal stretched his back as he slid the saw back into his shoulder. LeMarc finally gave up about the mud and walked over to watch Metal nudge the door open with his foot. "Looks like no one's home," LeMarc commented as he peeked into the dark hallway before them. His voice carried a hint of bitterness, probably from the mud. LeMarc turned back to Metal and motioned inside, "Ladies first."

Metal finally shoved the anger away enough to change his thoughts. He needed to focus on this mission. Wily was trusting him with this, and he needed to make up for him being buddy buddy with Bubble. Metal walked inside, his shoes clanging on the tile floor. Was LeMarc saying something? Doesn't matter. The moment Metal stepped inside, the lights flipped on. Ah, must be motion sensors. The hallway was empty, reaching out for a while until it split to a T, only a few doors here and there. LeMarc stepped in behind Metal, and walked passed him.

"So what kind of building _is_ this?" LeMarc asked aloud as he peeked inside some of the rooms.

"Utility poles outside make me think some kind of electrical plant," Metal responded without thinking. He trailed behind LeMarc, peeking inside one of the doors. It was dark in there too, but when Metal stepped inside it lit up just as the hallway had. Seemed like it was a break room with tables and chairs and even a few vending machines. But he wasn't interested with that. Metal felt a tinge of worry grow in the back of his brain, and he inspected the walls near the doorframe.

Ah, there it was. Metal turned and inspected a framed map of the facility's layout, marked with their location and the nearest exit (which, wasn't far). Metal replayed the auditory map to their target, tracing their path on the map. A little round-a-bout way of things, but at least he didn't need visual integration. Okay, so they just needed to take a few turns and... In there they would... yeah, yeah that made sense.

LeMarc peeked his head in the break room, "What's the hold up rusty?"

Metal didn't bother with an answer, taking a moment to memorize the twists and turns. Metal wasn't going to mess this up. He wouldn't let LeMarc go off-script... At least not again. LeMarc started tapping his foot, and Metal glared over in his direction. He's glad he didn't have to worry about hiding a satisfied smirk at LeMarc's muddy face. Yeah, famous race car driver and famous annoyance.

Metal shoved past LeMarc and started down the hallway, turning left and moving deeper into the building. He focused on his map, and the clean walls as they started their little trek into the building. There was nothing that really stood out other than the two red cyborgs. The halls stunk of plastic, metal, and cleaning product depending on where you were, and the soft _wrr_ -ing of the overhead lights threatened to distract Metal.

“So, I know you’re like, second in command or whatever- Wily’s pet,” LeMarc started. He was keeping pace behind Metal, and absentmindedly rubbing the last of the mud off his face.

Metal rolled his head back for a second, taking a long deep breath to prepare himself for LeMarc’s ramblings. He wasn’t Wily’s pet, he was a trusted… ally. Metal wanted to say friend, but he felt whatever he said to LeMarc would never stay between them. And besides, LeMarc doesn’t understand. He doesn't understand that Metal’s different than the robots Wily abandons. He shouldn’t even be comparing himself to the abandoned toys, Wily hasn’t abandoned him! He’s still useful and is doing his job!

Metal continued down the hallway, tearing his mind away from that ramble. Not now. He doesn’t need to think about that now.

“And like, I also get that you put up the name David Novem as an alias for when you’re in the public eye,” LeMarc continued, “But then who are you really? Are you in charge just because you were his first?” Before Metal could ponder an answer, LeMarc just as quickly changed topic.

"I mean, what’s up with that fan guy? And that other dude… Whatever his name is. He doesn’t really do anything but watch.” Bubble? Metal let out a little grumble, he didn't want to think about _him_ either.

“You're pretty rude, and from what little time we’ve spent together you’re not really that fun to be around. But you’re better than the others. Don’t really like to spend that much time by myself. Used to… paparazzi and stuff, ya know? I always have someone around me. So, I guess you’ll have to do. Rudeness and all,” LeMarc let out something between a laugh and a snicker as he crossed his arms.

“Shut. Up.” Metal said sternly, taking a glance back at him. 

“Ah yes, exhibit A of the rudeness. You shouldn’t interrupt people when they’re talking, ya know.” Metal gave LeMarc a shove and a static-filled hush.

"What?" LeMarc asked, taking note of where they had stopped. Metal pointed towards the double doors before them. Metal gave LeMarc a moment to piece things together before he opened the door and quickly stepped inside.

* * *

Calloused hands tightened a loose bolt on the machine upon the table. It was the beginnings of a chest piece, the wires of integration splayed out loosely underneath it like a thin blanket. The hands moved down the machine and traced a thicker cord. This machine would the first of its kind.

Bubble watched, standing opposite of Dr. Wily- who was fiddling with the machine. Bubble knew the spark of genius before him was forging a new path in mechanics.

How amazing that he got to watch it unfold before him. Bubble was struck with both awe and a horrible twist in his gut. If only someone else was making this. Someone who would use it for good.

“Hand me the phillips,” Dr. Wily said, reaching a grease-speckled hand out from the machine. Bubble quickly turned and passed it from the toolbox beside him.

Dr. Wily was quiet when he worked. Bubble wasn’t sure if he was normally like this or if it was his presence that took away his words. Well, Dr. Wily hadn’t asked him to join him but he wasn’t exactly chasing Bubble away either. Bubble had been trying to make a routine of this, inviting himself into the lab and watching Dr. Wily work away on his projects. Every once in a while, if he was lucky, Dr. Wily would ask him about something- get his thoughts.

“What is this, sir?” Bubble asked, motioning down towards the entirety of the machine.

“Have you ever heard of the brazen bull?” Dr. Wily asked as he handed the phillips screwdriver back.

“N-no sir.”

“It’s not important, pass me the flat head.”

Bubble did so, and the room fell back into a heavy silence. He reached into his pocket and fiddled with his little communicator. Air caught him in the middle of his report. Thankfully it seemed he didn't see anything so Bubble was fine.

He lightly tapped the power button, careful not to actually turn it on. He was this close to Dr. Wily’s beautiful creation and had his only connection to the outside world in his pocket. One press and he could get the information out, describe everything that was before him and who knows what kind of breakthroughs people could have.

What people wouldn’t do for miracles like this before him.

Or he could stay quiet, whisper little pieces each night and be able to stay here, under their watchful eyes.

“What are your thoughts on Metal’s technology?”

Bubble brought a hand up to run through his hair. “Metal? He’s pretty amazing. I would love to see his files sometime. To know exactly where cords stop and skin begins. Why do you ask?”

“You don’t need to know.”

“O-Oh, I’m sorry,” Bubble stated, before quickly catching his mistake, “Sir. Sorry, sir.” What Wily said sounded really out of place for him, even if Bubble didn’t know him that well.

“But indeed. He and Air will be useful tools. Quick too.” Dr. Wily said quietly, rambling. Bubble prompted him to continue, trying to hide his eagerness at him opening up. Being alone for so long in one’s office must make them easy to break.

“Quick?”

“LeMarc. You missed him today.”

“Oh no, I passed him earlier. Didn’t know you had given him a new name yet. And… I assume you’re excluding those present in your list of tools,” Bubble forced a little laugh. Bubble waited for Dr. Wily to continue on the conversation- or at least change the topic. But it seemed silence hung over them once again.

It was a few minutes of silence before either of them spoke again. By then, the chest piece was mostly finished. Bubble recognized empty spots on the back- when Dr. Wily turned it over- where different pieces still needed to be hooked up. Bubble couldn’t recognize everything, but he did recognize the lack of a power source at least.

“You are not a fighter, you are not strong,” Dr. Wily said, taking a moment to lean back from the table and clean his hands with a nearby tattered rag.

“T-true,” Bubble mumbled, looking between Dr. Wily and the machine.

“But you are still useful nonetheless.” Dr. Wily started slowly, “I have the others for their brawn; you, for your brain.” He folded the rag before laying it atop the chest piece, “I have a proposition for you.”

“A prop-proposition? But I haven’t…”

“I want you to work on designing a teleportation system. I doubt this would be a very difficult task for you,” Dr. Wily ordered, turning away from him. Bubble fumbled over his words and thoughts. Was this his break? Or was this a trap? Is Dr. Wily trusting him, or testing his knowledge?

“Of course, sir… I’ll try,” Bubble finally stuttered out. Dr. Wily didn’t turn back, fiddling with something Bubble could see.

“Well, then get going.”

Bubble turned and quickly made his way out the room, stepping into the hallway. Eagerness and horror blended together into a shakiness that enveloped him entirely. A teleportation system? Of course, Light had built one a few months ago- Bubble watched him build it. Hell, he’d practically memorized the blueprints and math. 

Not that the teleportation system was the only thing Bubble had watched Light build, but it was one of his favorites to have witnessed. It never got passed the testing phase- never really had the reason to Light had said. Bubble ran another hand through his hair as he headed towards his room. 

How much did Dr. Wily know about him? Is this a test- does Dr. Wily expect him to rebuild what Light already has? Or is Dr. Wily just testing the waters, seeing how he would tackle such a difficult situation. Maybe Bubble had already blown his cover- maybe he was supposed to act more surprised. Say ‘teleportation isn’t possible, is it?’ and pretend he had never known of one's existence.Bubble didn’t see Air on his way to his room. 

Bubble quickly shut the door behind him, louder than he had meant to. Bubble fiddled with the lock on the door- learning his lesson from earlier with Air. Then, he pulled out his little communicator- turning it on and moving to his window. 

There was a quiet ‘beep’ as it sprung to life and Bubble took in a shaky breath to calm his nerves. 

“Elec? You there? Hey… Come on…” Bubble was very careful to keep his voice low as he leaned back a little on the bed, resting on his free hand. Anticipation hung in the air, Elec swore he would always have his communicator on him. 

Finally, Bubble heard his voice from the other end. 

“Yes? What’s going on?”

“I uhm… Sorry, yeah um, a little bit of an emergency? I don’t know if this counts…” Bubble took a weary glance at the door before continuing, “That piece I mentioned earlier? Looks like it's almost done… And erm… Dr .Wily has me designing a teleportation system…” 

"You're scared you're gonna copy Dr. Light, huh? Or blow your cover?"

Bubble let out a sigh he didn't know he was holding, "Yeah. Really worried. I'm pretty sure he knows. I think Metal probably told him..." 

"But you said you thought Metal was a good guy?" 

Bubble leaned his head over, turning around and looking at his window, unsure of what exactly to do while he's on com. "I know I said that. And _I_ thought I got around to him, too... Elec?"

"Yeah?"

"What should I do?"

"What if Wily knows?" Elec calmly suggested.

Bubble pondered for a moment, "Well, then he's showing me what he wants Dr. Light to know, and he's going to dispose of me the minute he's said what he wants." Bubble stood up from the bed, leaning down and inspecting the joints on his lower exoskeleton. "But then I don't know what he's trying to say. I don't know."

"Maybe Dr. Wily doesn't know," Bubble said, "He has Metal and LeMarc, who's been renamed Quick, put on a mission or something right now... Elec? You still listening?"

"Of course. Now, what about-" There was a cut of static followed by silence. Bubble stood there, looking over at the communication device. Elec didn't cut out like that- Bubble was scared to say anything else. At least... At least now there was no question if Dr. Wily knew what he was doing.

* * *

Metal dug his heel into the robot’s chest, his eyes scanning the little machine in his hand. LeMarc had searched the room quickly, and chose to reserve himself by leaning against the wall with his arms crossed as he rambled.

“So what exactly are we supposed to be getting here? Figure it out yet rusty?” LeMarc asked. 

Metal ignored him. The little machine seemed to be some kind of radio perhaps? Whatever it was, he didn’t need it. Metal threw it against the wall- barely missing LeMarc’s head. Metal watched the robot squirm beneath him, tilting his head to the side in contemplation.

Was this what they were after? What could this pathetic bundle of wires have that would benefit them? 

“He doesn’t seem very special. Why would Wily want _him_?” LeMarc pondered, bringing a hand up to his chin as he watched Metal.

“ _Dr._ Wily,” Metal corrected sternly, glaring at LeMarc before turning back to the robot before him, pressing down with his heel a harder to hear a little crunch, but it never came. Metal would have gritted his teeth. He hated that a part of him was as curious as LeMarc. But no. Metal needed to trust Dr. Wily, to reciprocate the reliability. 

The robot reached a hand up, grabbing Metal’s leg as it forced a pained smirk, “You’re Metal I presume?” 

Metal took in a breath but it was cut off quickly as loud and pain enveloped his senses- electric pops and static filling his ears and everything was suddenly _too much, too much_ \- He screwed his eyes shut before he felt something hard hit his side. 

Metal’s head throbbed, headache quickly forming and he felt sick to his stomach. He forced his eyes open to see that he wasn’t hit- he had fallen over. His audio processors rung, and he tried to stand back up. He couldn't hear anything, his limbs lagged behind him, but he managed to prop himself up and turn around enough to see the robot and LeMarc had disappeared. 

* * *

LeMarc trailed behind the robot, watching to make sure the robot didn’t send another bolt of electricity towards him. LeMarc was of course fast enough to catch him if he actually tried, but if that meant getting shocked like Metal then he would rather let the robot run out of gas in a little game of chase. 

“I can do this all day you know,” LeMarc laughed, following the robot as he turned a corner. Were they heading towards the exit? LeMarc couldn’t really tell, but it doesn’t really matter.LeMarc could probably destroy the robot with a well aimed boomerang, but he didn’t know where it’s IC chip would be. He didn’t really want to destroy that, he had big plans and didn’t want to get on Wily’s bad side quite yet.

“This is kind of fun, yeah? Stretching your legs?”

“Glad one of us is enjoying this,” The robot called back sarcastically, “You don’t know the layout of this place, do you?” 

“Does it matter?” LeMarc asked. 

“Yeah, kinda!” LeMarc watched the robot disappear around another corner, and suddenly he could hear the sparks of electricity popping to life. LeMarc didn’t have time to hesitate before he rounded the corner- 

But there was no flash of lightning, just the clanging of metal and thick insulative plastic collapsing to the floor. LeMarc watched as the robot fell to the floor, a saw blade jutting out from its neck, a clean cut through wires and iron. Metal stood behind there the robot once stood, his frame twitching as he looked up at LeMarc. 

“Ah, good old revenge I suppose. Well, good job,” LeMarc said, forcing a smile to hide his own frustration. “Like I said before, looks like we’re gonna have to stick together! Make a good team, yeah?”

Metal just stared at him for a moment, before squinting his eyes with a loud, “ _Huh_?” 


	8. Silence and Gunshots

Metal shut the castle ‘gate’ with a lazy slam on the control panel- careful not to drop the robot in his arms. He had to swivel his head over to watch the gate fall- his audio receptors still weren’t functioning. Despite this, and despite his systems still being jerky and shaking with excess electricity and him having to carry the robot all the way back over his shoulder, it was still the most enjoyable time he’s had in the last couple days.

He had time to think over what he’s done, and he didn’t have to listen to LeMarc.

He had done well, despite LeMarc’s best attempts at what he could only describe as self-sabotage. 

Metal took a glance around the room, and decided to set the robot down against the wall nearby. He couldn’t help but be at least a tiny bit grateful that he himself was mostly wires and gears. If he wasn’t, there would be no way he could carry the robot all the way back.

Metal started on his way towards Dr. Wily’s office to report. As he walked down the hallways, he rounded a corner and bumped into Air. Dangit.

Metal watched Air probably say something snarky with a roll of his eyes and a cross of his arms. Air glanced over his armor, scratched and probably still caked with dried mud. Metal was never big on keeping it clean.

“During the mission-“ Metal started, but he could see Air’s _flinch_ at his voice. He must have been really loud. Metal paused, feeling a tad bit embarrassed, and lowered his volume before continuing, “During the mission my audio receptors were damaged. Until they are repaired I can’t hear anything.”

Air moved again, probably sighing, and looked back down the hallway before back at Metal.“It’s even harder to discern what you’re saying when you don’t have a mouth,” Metal added lightheartedly. 

That comment earned him a shove on the shoulder, Air’s fan picking up speed with either annoyance or humor. Metal couldn’t tell which. Air waved his hand around as he probably started saying something else before catching himself and giving Metal a _look_ he couldn't decipher. 

Then, Metal felt a hand on his arm and turned to see LeMarc saying something to the both of them with his helmet off and in the other hand. LeMarc lifted his hand, presumably to pat his shoulder, and so Metal took a step away from him. 

Metal could only watch LeMarc talk, and Air glance between them, before LeMarc continued down the hallway. 

Ah, he was heading towards Wily’s office. Metal turned back to Air, who was starting to walk away, and grabbed his arm. Air didn’t really have that much time to react as Metal pulled him towards where LeMarc had gone.

Air didn't pull back, and Metal didn’t spare him a look as he led the way towards the office. 

Metal absentmindedly wondered where Bubble was. Guess it didn't matter, and it's not like he would hear anyone’s answer right now. Oh no, would they have to get like a stupid board and marker or something to tell him stuff? Metal cringed at the thought. No, he wouldn't be broken for that long. 

Soon enough they were at Wily’s office, the door left open by LeMarc. Metal peered in, letting Air’s hand free. 

Inside, Wily was overlooking the large centre table, holographic statistics and dates flickering before him. LeMarc was pacing to the side, talking and talking and- Metal glanced back at Air and motioned over to say ‘get a load of this guy’. 

LeMarc caught sight of the two of them and paused- letting out a laugh, and turned to tell Wily another thing or three. 

Metal had nothing to do but wait for someone to do something, but things continued as they were- LeMarc talking and Wily looking down at the table. Wily wouldn’t look at him- he wouldn’t lift his head from the statistics. Metal couldn’t help but feel it was hung in disappointment. 

Disappointment in Metal- he hadn’t been good enough. He let LeMarc run ahead, and he let the robot of all things catch him off guard and _beat_ him. Metal let LeMarc run over his _command_ , and the robot best him. They won- Metal failed, failed, _failed_. No wonder Wily couldn't stand to look at him- Metal was nothing. He was a failure. Metal felt sick to his stomach- how could he ever have been proud? He hadn't done well he’d-

A little _tap tap tap_ tore him from his spiral of self hatred- Metal blinking to force himself back into the here and now. 

Metal looked down and back to see that Air was still there even though Metal's a failure. He was tapping his shaking hand in reassurance. Air was still there, and even though his optics couldn’t express many things well Metal could see concern looking back at him. Metal hoped his eyes didn't betray him as he tried to keep a steady face. 

Metal returned the gesture with soft taps as he tried to still his hands. He couldn’t hear the taps, but the tiny sensation was reassuring nonetheless.   


It was only a few more moments before Wily lifted his hand and motioned for them to leave. LeMarc walked over, gave Metal and Air a smirk, and left. Metal wasn’t sure if Wily wanted him to leave too. Did Wily say something? Did LeMarc tell him about his auditory system? Wait- better question, did Metal want LeMarc be the one to tell Wily of his auditory system? 

Air pulled his hand away and gave Metal a quick ‘good luck' pat on the shoulder before leaving too. Oh, ok. 

Soon enough it was just the two of them- Wily and Metal. How long had it been since it was only them- no Bubble or Air and especially no LeMarc. 

Wily finally lifted his head, his shoulders slumping down with a sigh. Metal felt a little bit of ease at that, but there was still a twist in his gut. Metal wanted to take in a breath to say something- but he couldn’t form the words. There was nothing he could say- no string of apologies to make soothe Wily’s growing anger. 

Metal watched as Wily scanned over his armor, a frown distorting his mustache and eyebrows. Wily gave the table a little pat and the holographs flickered out, allowing him to focus entirely on the scrap of metal standing before him. Metal curled his hands into fists and took in a small shaky breath as Wily walked over to him. 

Wily wasn’t ever physically violent- at least not directly. Metal was prepared for Wily however to curse and yell and make mostly-empty threats. Metal had learned his lesson, really. He should have the first time, and then the second, and this was his third. His last chance that he completely blew. 

Wily reached over and grabbed Metal’s jaw, turning his head away to inspect his ear pieces. It was a sudden motion- and Metal couldn’t help but flinch a little at the touch. Metal tried again to think of something to say. Was there really nothing? Probably nothing LeMarc hadn’t already. 

Wily let him go and instead walked passed him out into the hall, and motioned for Metal to follow.

* * *

Bubble stepped into he castle entryway. It was chilly and so dark he could barely see where the broken robots littered the floor. There was a soft howl from the gate- Metal and Quick must not have shut it all the way when they’d return.

He carefully stepped over an animatronic bird as he returned his mind to the matter at hand. Building a teleportation system would be difficult, and even more so without the right parts. Bubble just knew that Dr. Wily was onto him- so Bubble really had to appease him with this. All Bubble could really hope for in the entryway was that maybe one of the robotic carcasses had bits he needed. 

Most of them were completely useless, Bubble noted as he folded his hands together. They were mostly the same few models too… 

He was still a little bit shaken from his last call with Elec. He had cut out so suddenly, Bubble was sure something happened. Dr. Wily probably knew about Bubble being a traitor, and cut out his outside communication. At least, that’s what Bubble _hoped_ Dr. Wily did…

One robot stood out. Bubble couldn’t make out most of its features, but it was humanoid and it was resting against the wall a little ways from most of the other animatronic creatures. A tiny bit of hope sparked in Bubble as he moved over. The closer he got, the more his eyes adjusted to the dark and the more details he could make out. 

“O-oh shit… I, wait- oh fuck…” Bubble barely made the words out as realization hit him like a truck. Elec was there- right there before him, his head leaned over in an unnatural position, wires crawling out from the cut in the side of his neck. Elec wasn’t human- he wasn’t a cyborg- but- Bubble had to fight the feeling of bile rising in the back of his throat. 

Thoughts swirled as Bubble stepped closer to Elec, moving down onto his knees as his hands inspected the wound. The one hit cut most of the important things. Bubble felt like eyes were on him, staring him down. “Elec, I…” Bubble couldn’t say anything. Metal and Quick were sent out for intel, right? What Dr. Wily meant by intel made a lot more sense now, as Bubble traced individual wires from Elec’s neck. 

Elec wasn’t dead, Bubble knew. Well, he was shut down and would have to go through some serious repairs for this if he was to turn on again- but his IC chip was still intact. Bubble inspected the fridges of his chest piece; no signs of anyone trying to open it and sighed in relief when he found none.

Bubble swallowed down his nervousness and tried to calm his nerves. There was still hope. He could go through the plan and after this is all over he can easily rebuild Elec. It would be like nothing ever happened- if the sudden power down didn’t affect his memory storage. 

That’s right. Bubble still had to go through with the plan. He knew what he was getting into. He knew this was a possibility- but that didn't help the feeling of utter sickness growing. Bubble couldn’t dare even consider giving up now- if anything, Elec's decommission is only more reason to stay. 

Bubble had to stay here and… and... And build the teleportation system and just move the plan up. Elec had said they probably had a few weeks before Dr. Wily found out and Bubble had to act. The only thing that’s changed is now Bubble must act sooner. He would and he would rebuild Elec. He will, later.

Now, Bubble knew the teleportation system came first. He knew Elec had a part he needed- a power converter in his central panel. Bubble lifted his hands up to Elec’s shoulders to unclip the black rubber piece, and wiggled it up enough to open his maintenance hatch.

Most robot masters Light designed followed the same pattern- IC chip in their center control panel, protected by wires, power core, maintenance hatch, and in some cases another layer of armor. It wasn’t really kept secret, but most people didn’t bother to remember. It's not like everyday you had to manually power up or down a robot master.

Bubble was relieved to find that Elec was almost perfectly intact other than the injury to his neck. Bubble fumbled through the wires, pulling out the small power core and setting it to the side. He found the central panel, where Elec’s IC chip and the power converter were attached.

“What are you doing here?” A voice called out. Bubble flinched, quickly pulling his hands away from Elec and pushing himself up to his feet. He spun around to see Air in the doorway, one hand propping him up and the other was folded behind him. His voice dripped with both agitation and suspicion. 

Bubble took a breath and very carefully hid any sickness or fear as he said, “Scavenging for parts. Teleportation systems are hard to build ya know.” He glanced back down at Elec and motioned towards his chest, “He has a power converter that would be very useful.” 

Air’s fan kicked up a notch, and Bubble watched him think about what to say. Bubble glanced down at his hands during this pause of silence, and decided to wipe the black smudge from Elec’s gears onto the side of his shirt. 

“You know what, trying to beat around the bush leaves a bad taste in my mouth,” Air said, and stepped fully inside the entryway. Bubble was about to say something but he was interrupted by the clanging of a small robot falling onto the floor. 

Looking down, Air had tossed a little maroon bot down at Bubble’s feet. The back was flipped open and wires tore out. Bubble bit the inside of his mouth.

“Found this in the back of Metal’s little robot.” Bubble pulled his head back up, and Air had a crushed listening device in his hand. “You put that in there, and I want to know why.” 

“What makes you think I put that- whatever it is- in there?” Bubble asked, “Where is this coming from, this… sudden suspicion of me.” 

“I heard you talking to someone in your room. Doubt you have a phone, and _seriously_ doubt Wily would allow you to actually call someone,” Air rolled his eyes, “You’re shady enough as it is, trying to be buddy-buddy with Wily. But Metal hasn’t been quite right since talking to you a while ago, and then suddenly I never see you around.” Air continued, “Whatever happened between you and Metal was enough to seriously mess him up and make him question if he’s _good_. Seriously, what do I have to _not_ be suspicious of you? ” 

“I think you give me too much credit,” Bubble interjected, “I didn’t say anything to him.” 

“And finally,” Air crushed the little audio recorder in his hand again, “After I got that robot back from you, I found a listening device in it. You and Wily aren’t the only ones who know electronics around here… You’re up to something and I just want to know what.” 

“If you put that together, you should be able to get the rest,” Bubble said, smiling. The sick feeling in his stomach only grew- like a ticking bomb. Bubble knew everything was about to collapse around him. But if… But if he misses this chance things will only get much, much worse. 

* * *

Little clicks snapped through Metal’s head as Wily tinkered with his auditory system. Wily had brought him to his workshop and onto one of what Metal could only compare to a surgical table. The workshop was dark except for the blinding overhead light. 

It was hot- but Metal tried not to move. He didn’t want to make this more difficult for Wily- make Wily have to strap him down onto the table. He’d had to in the past, back when permanent integration was painful and phantom pains reared reared ugly heads. When memory was hard to discern from reality and… A lot of it was fuzzy to Metal. He had heard enough from Wily’s complaints to know it happened. 

Metal wasn’t quite sure how long it had been until a sudden clank sounded in his receptors. Metal took a moment to process the sudden change- he could hear again. Hear the low drumming and measured thumps of machinery that echoed throughout the castle walls, and the buzzing of the light in his face. 

It wasn’t until Metal heard Wily grumble and start to put away his tools that Metal allowed himself to move. 

“- you two come back looking like ragged mutts.” Metal only caught the end of Wily’s grumbling. “Next time, hose your armor down before tracking mud everywhere, idiots.” 

Metal sat himself up on the table, careful not to hit his head on the light. He watched Wily close a little toolbox and moved it over to set it down beside one of the few filing cabinets. 

Metal remembered sneaking in here when Air first arrived and looking through his own files from those cabinets. There was a lot of stuff he didn’t remember correctly, apparently. Nothing important- just what medications he had been on, and different dates, and records of his early progress. At least, Metal didn’t think that was very important anymore.   


Wily turned back and looked over Metal one last time before walking over and reaching up to turn off the light, “That’s what you get for being sloppy with your mission.” 

“Yes sir.” 

“Do you think I really have the time or resources to be repairing your stupid mistakes?” 

“No sir. I apologize, sir,” Metal mumbled, looking away from Wily and towards the door. He recognized a bad feeling forming- one that always showed up before he fell into one of his mental spirals. He didn’t want to- Wily was right there. Metal took a shaky breath, but Wily didn’t notice or didn’t care.   


Wily moved Metal’s arm- and Metal took a step away from the table, turning to watch Wily wipe it off where some of Metal’s armor rust had apparently scratched off. He really needed to get to that. 

“I need you to get the IC chip from that Light ‘bot.” 

“Huh?” Metal blurted out. What Light bot? Was that electric guy built by Dr. Light? Oh, okay. That makes sense, but what did Wily… No. Metal told himself he wasn’t going to question Wily anymore. He didn’t have to, and it seemed like whenever he did he only got himself in more trouble.   


“Yes sir.” Metal said, turning towards the door- only to watch it open from the outside. 

Bubble was in the doorway. He looked very disheveled- his shirt was stretched and decorated with black greasy smudges, his arms had red marks, and his breathing was heavy. Metal scrunched up his nose in confusion. Bubble had something in his hand-

“Hey Metal,” Bubble said with a weak smile, “Move over for me, yeah?”

Metal glanced back at Wily- who was turning around to see what was going on- and when he looked back at Bubble he saw the familiar gleam of a steel muzzle pointing at him. He was- he was staring down the _barrel of a gun_.

“Bubble- _what the fuck_ -“ Where did he get a gun? Did he sneak it in? Metal didn't have time to fully process any question-

“Quick,” Metal heard Wily order behind him-

“Metal, _move over_. Do the right thing here,” Bubble ordered.

“I-“ Metal couldn’t move- _he couldn’t move_ \- his joints must have locked up or something, he couldn’t- did he want to move? 

“I’m going to shoot you right now if you don’t get out of the _fucking_ way, _Novem_!”

“No-“ Metal started, taking a step back towards Wily-

There was a movement behind Bubble, scaring him and suddenly-

_**BANG**_!


	9. The Hermit

_Fuck_ \- Metal had just gotten rid of the ringing in his ears. However, that was the least of his problems right now. A more pressing issue was probably the _fucking bullet wound_ through his right shoulder- dangerously close to his clavicle and integration wires. 

Metal’s head pounded as a hot burning pain blossomed. Metal looked down- his chest piece was punctured- he brought up his left hand and graced the outer damage. He couldn’t see inside but he’s sure if he could he would see his undersuit becoming discolored. 

“ _Fucking bitch! I— fuck!_ ” 

Metal pulled his attention away from the wound and saw LeMarc pinning Bubble down in the doorway. He had a hand around the back of Bubble’s neck- the other hand holding his arm away from the gun he’d dropped. Bubble let out choked cusses and pained cries of anger. 

“ _Sebelas_.”

Wily walked past Metal, glaring down at Bubble. “I should shoot you right now for this,” Wily barked, stomping down on Bubble’s hand held by LeMarc, earning another yell from Bubble. 

“Shut the fuck up, you piece of shit,” Wily growled, before taking a breath to calm himself. Yeah right, Metal knew Wily wouldn’t calm down that easily.   
Another throb of pain-

_Ooh_ , oh yeah, bullet wound. Metal felt a little light headed. He took a step towards the table and let himself lean against it. 

Metal kept his breathing steady through the pain as he fumbled with the golden belt-like frame. Unlocking it, he quickly shed his outer armor to find exactly what he’d expected, blood staining the wires in a deep gash. Did it go through? Is the bullet still inside? He could hear Bubble still yelling out in his struggle- and hear Wily order something to Quick… Quick? 

Metal spared a glance back to see LeMarc- er… _Quick_ , pull Bubble up by his arm. Bubble couldn’t do anything- pulling up his free arm to scratch out of Quick’s grasp. He wasn’t moving his lower half. Metal spotted the reason. Wily had in his hand a bundle of wires and a small motherboard, both of which probably crucial in movement.

Ahh fuck, Metal hissed in pain. He didn’t know how to feel. He’d known Bubble was a traitor, and he didn’t tell Wily. He was to blame for this. The confusion quickly melted into guilt.

“ _I’m sorry_ ,” Metal started, hand pressing against his wound, “ _I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m…_ ” 

Wily turned to him. 

Metal bit back any more apologies at the sight of Wily’s rage filled eyes. 

“You’ve learned your lesson.” 

“Yes. Yes, I fucked up. I disappointed you- I knew and I didn’t tell you. I didn’t report back immediately and you almost got shot for it. You almost died. I’m so-“

“Shut up you pathetic piece of junk! No apologies, your words don’t mean shit.”

Metal flinched back, averting his eyes in shame as he pressed his hand hard against his own bleeding wound.

“You have many things to make up for, Metal.“ Wily motioned over to the gun left on the floor, “I expect you to _do_ something about this.” 

Metal nodded. The feeling of shame lessened as a weight lifted off of his shoulders. Wily expected him to do something- he expected him, relied on him to act and fix what he’d done. 

Metal remembered thinking long ago about how cryptic Wily’s choice of words usually are, but he’d come to figure out how to understand them. How to decode them. He had realized that Wily just didn’t know how to voice his forgiveness or approval. He just wasn’t built for verbal expression. But that was okay. Metal knew now, and Metal understood that even though he’d messed up, this was his chance. Wily _forgave_ him.

Metal felt another sharp burn of pain and he was once again reminded. The. Fucking. Bullet. In. His. Shoulder. How the fuck did he keep getting side tracked? That was kind of the most important thing right now. How much time had passed? Was he going to bleed out?

Metal tilted his hand away form his chest to look at the growing bloodstain, “Shit I… Dr. Wily?”

Wily waved him off, “Pressure and clean.” That was all he said before leaving to follow where Quick had dragged Bubble. 

Now alone in the room, Metal let himself lower to the floor and lean against the table. Holding his hand hard against the wound, Metal let his mind drift. How long was he supposed to hold it? Until it stopped bleeding? What if he bled out before that? Shouldn’t he be rushed to the hospital right about now? 

Oh, fuck, the thought of going to a hospital again was worse than the pain of the bullet. He had had enough of hospitals for the rest of his life. Enough of the doctors. Enough of the lights. Enough of the medications. Enough enough enough. 

He wasn’t going to the hospital again. No emergency room. Just right here and now. His chest felt icky as a little blood trickled down through the undersuit. It was weird. He could feel the rise and fall of his own chest against his hand- often it was barred with his armor but not now. The pain was still very present, don’t get him wrong. It still hurt and he was trying very hard to not make any noises. Not that it mattered if he did. 

Someone walked in. Metal didn’t bother to lift his head to see who- too focused on where the prosthetics connected. 

“Damnit.” Ah, it was Air. 

Metal heard steps near, and Air’s feet came into his vision. Lifting his head, Metal saw Air was just fine except for one of his optics flickered and he had a dent dangerously close to his fan. 

“Hey, Air.” Metal felt a little weird, sitting there without his chest piece. 

“What… happened?” a touch of confusion in Air’s voice as he processed the scene. Metal pulled his arm away from the wound to motion towards the gun still left a few feet away. 

“Well-“ 

“ _Holy shit!_ ” Air practically yelled- and Metal jerked his head up to see what happened- but Air had his eyes on his shoulder. “You’re _shot_!” 

“Yeah. Thanks to Bubble,” Metal grumbled, “He was trying to kill Wily. Didn’t turn out so good for him.” As he was saying this, Air brought his hands together to where his mouth would be- his eyes furrowed. It was silent for a second, Air processing the information and Metal bitting back gasps of pain.

“Don’t worry,” Metal finally said to break the silence, “I’ll be fine.”   
“What do you mean you’ll be fine?” Air blurted out, probably louder than he meant to as he tore his hands apart from each other. 

“I mean- I’ll be fine. Just have to let the bleeding stop, then clean the wound.” 

“ _Let the bleeding stop?_ I don’t think it will!” 

Metal thought for a second, “Well, I mean. Eventually the blood will clot or something. Like a scab.” 

“You are being very calm after being _shot_ in the shoulder,” Air noted, reaching over and turning on the table overhead light. 

“Yeah. The gun’s over there, by the way,” Metal said, finally being able to finish his motion towards Bubble’s weapon. He quickly returned his hand to the wound. “And it’s not like there’s much I _could_ do about getting shot now.” 

Air crossed his arms, looking deep in thought, “Yeah, guess not. Do you need me to get anything? You probably shouldn’t move around that much.” He was still visibly tense. Not quite sure what to attribute that to- there weren’t a lot of signs but Metal could just tell from his general demeanor. 

“Not really,” Metal said, letting his voice trail down to a static-filled volume level, “I just have to wait… then I’ll think about what’s next.” 

“Where did the rest of them go?” 

“Don’t know. But they’re probably all together. Did you know LeMarc’s name is Quick now?” 

“Yeah. I overheard that… Shit man, do you want like a towel or something to push against it?” 

“ ‘Cause I didn’t know. Uh, yeah, sure,” Metal nodded. 

Air nodded, “Alright then. I’ll be right back- going to go get you a towel.” 

Metal let out a ‘hmm’ of acknowledgment, and looked back down. He tried to move his right arm to see how much it was damaged. First he moved his fingers (all good), then wrist (again, no damage), then from the elbow (a little bit difficult, but still fine), and finally from the shoulder (not a lot of movement). He couldn’t lift his arm up very far without a pain.

Metal wished Air hadn’t turned on the overhead light. That one was always too hot and it smelled like smoke. He hated it. The smell of smoke was heavy and it burned his lungs. He was far too hot- he needed to turn it off. But… He didn’t think he could bring himself to stand up right now. 

Instead, Metal bent over and used his right hand to pull off his helmet. That was a little better but he still felt miserable. It was hot and burning and he felt the familiar panic rise. He couldn’t get up. He would be trapped with the fire and smoke. 

Air returned as he said he would, quickly moving over to Metal and bending over to help him, “Hey.”

Metal pulled his head back against the table, “Finally. You take forever, man.”   
Air swiftly folded up the towel and handed it to Metal, before glancing over at his helmet. “Oh shut up.”

Air paused, he stuck out his hand almost like a hand shake- before reconsidering his thought and curling up his fingers, “Listen- uh… Are you okay with me seeing…?” 

Metal watched him, before shrugging- _ow_ \- “It’s fine. Now, if I was going to take off my _mask_ then yeah I’d ask you to leave or something. But right now…” 

There was more silence filled only periodically with a slam from somewhere else in the castle and low mechanical grumbling and creaking. Metal partially expected Air to turn and find where the others had gone, but instead after a few minutes Air just… moved over and sat down beside Metal. 

They stayed like that, each in their own head. 

“What happened to _you_? I think you got the robotic equivalent of a black eye,” Metal joked to break the silence.

Air rolled his eyes, “I got Bubble to thank for that. I was trying to see what he was doing when suddenly, something flipped in his brain and he _freaked_ out. The little fucker tried to fight me, and nearly messed up his hand in my fan before running off.” 

“Hmm.” 

“I mean, come on. What did he expect to happen when he punched a fan? I definitely would have survived that but did he think his knuckles would?” Air laughed a little. 

Metal pulled the towel away from the wound and looked over the blood. There was definitely a growing stain, but not as bad as it was before. Metal tilted his head back- _thunking_ against the table. 

Metal focused his eyes on the gun. His mind drifted off to the last time he was in here. He remembered creaking the door open and quietly moving across the room towards the cabinets. The cabinets were right there. Inside was much more information than Metal _wanted_ to know. 

“Wily keeps duplicates of files on each of us in there,” Metal said, motioning over with his free hand. Air turned and followed where he’d motioned and let out an amused huff. 

“Everyone?” 

“Well, at least for you, me, and most every other one of Dr. Wily’s important projects,” Metal paused before lying, “I had just glanced through them one day.” Metal felt the awkward silence rise again. He wasn’t quite sure why he’d brought it up. It’s not like either of them really had to know anything about the other. And if they did, they could just ask… Metal felt a tinge of guilt over looking at Air’s files a while ago. 

“That’s got me thinking,” Air started, “We don’t actually know that much about each other, do we? Just that the other was desperate enough to go to Wily for their own reasons… Whatever those are.” 

Metal nodded.

“Quick’s the only real exception, but that’s just because his entire life’s on tv… You? A Mr. Nobody.” 

“Ah. _Thanks_.” 

“No I mean-“ 

“Yeah, I get it,” Metal nudged him jokingly, “I don’t know anything about you except you got some pretty sick tattoos and can’t laugh. Oh wait- _and_ you’re a know-it-all.” 

“I know less about you! All I know about _you_ is that your name’s _not_ Novem. That’s it. I don’t even know which room’s yours.” 

“What do you mean? My room’s in-between yours and Bubble’s.” 

“What? No way,” Air laughed, “Do you even sleep? That room’s so empty!” 

Metal laughed a little too at Air’s entertainment. “Not really. I don’t have anything to decorate it _with_. But there you go, now you know which room’s mine.” 

“Hmph, well, I would have eventually figured it out,” Air said. 

“Sure.” Metal felt the light mood slowly fade. 

There was another long draw of silence, just broken by Metal mumbling, “Fucking… _Bubble_.” 

“Decane,” Air said as his fan slowed down to a quieter pace. 

“Huh?” 

“My… last name. It was Decane.” 

Metal looked over, and gave Air a weak smile and a hand to shake, “Nice to meet ya, _Decane_.” 

* * *

Air closed the door to Wily’s office, eagerness finding its way into his step and fidgeting hands. Oh, just wait ‘till Metal hears _this_. Air quickly moved through the castle halls. After Bubble had lashed out- for reasons he was still trying to understand- Wily had locked Bubble away in a room Air hadn’t paid any attention to before. He completely shut him away- and now Wily’s the only one allowed in or out. 

Wily also ordered Metal to stand guard in front of the door on guard duty, and Metal stayed there most of the time. Air rounded the corner and, lo and behold, Metal was standing less than a foot away from the door per usual, arms crossed behind him and heels together. 

“Hey, doctor.” 

Metal glanced over and nodded a greeting. His shoulder was still healing and he had to clean and change bandages. And, despite there still being a bullet hole dug into it, he was wearing the same chest piece. He really needed to get that fixed up. Hell, he needed to get _everything_ fixed up. Air couldn’t help but feel pity towards his dilapidated armor. 

“Still standing here guarding Schrödinger’s cyborg?”

Metal didn’t laugh, but he did let out an amused huff, “Of course. Dr. Wily’s orders.” He allowed himself to relax a little and pull his arms out from behind him. “What are you doing here?” 

“I’ve gotten my own orders from Wily,” Air started, and watched for Metal’s reaction as he continued, “I’m being sent out on a mission with LeMarc.” 

“My condolences,” Metal said at the mention of LeMarc. Huh, Air expected Metal to react more- wait wait Metal’s eyebrows shot up as he fully processed what Air said. He jerked his head back over at Air, “You’re going _outside_?” 

“You bet,” Air rested a hand on his chest as he smugly explained, “Wily’s finally recognizing my fighting capabilities! See, I told you he couldn’t deny my genius forever!” He felt his fan kick up a little more speed as he would have smiled. He watched Metal for his reaction. He remembered Metal worried about him, but he didn’t need to anymore. Air didn’t need his pity. 

Metal stuttered over his words, “W-What are you going to do?” Air burst out laughing, and Metal glared as if to ask him to take the situation more seriously. 

“Nothing’s gonna happen, doctor! I’ll be _fine_ ,” Air relaxed, “Don’t worry. LeMarc and I are just going to pick someone up for Wily.” He pulled his hand away from his chest and turned the palm over as if to show Metal evidence, “Oh, and we’re playing messenger.” 

Air knew he wasn’t telling the whole truth, but he only wanted to mess around with Metal. He didn’t want to actually worry him more than he needed to with all of the nitty gritty details. 

“Seriously, you don’t have to worry,” Air insisted, “The only thing that might happen is LeMarc might show back up with a few teeth knocked out.” 

“But it would be entirely his fault. I’ll give him a warning or two.” 

Metal finally sighed, “Alright. I mean, it doesn’t really matter what I think about it if it’s Dr. Wily’s orders. He knows what he’s doing- and I hope it’s the same with you.” 

“You doubt me?” 

Metal started to respond- but was interrupted when the door behind him let out a _thud_. Air paused, his train of thought immediately gone and he looked between Metal and the door. 

Metal rolled his eyes, “Don’t worry about it. It’s nothing important.” He pulled his arms back to cross behind him as he resumed his position. Air stilled, was that Bubble? What the fuck was that noise? Air gave Metal a puzzling glare- knowing that despite what he said Metal had no clue either. He was probably just repeating what Wily’s told him in the past. 

“Alright then,” Air slowly picked back up where he left off, “What were you going to say?” 

“Oh right. If something happens I’m going to kill you.” Metal said, “When are you two leaving?” 

“Real soon. I don’t know how long we’ll be gone though.” 

“Ah. Well, good luck," Metal said, giving Air a quick nod for a goodbye.

Air did his kind-of slight-full-body-tilt for a nod, and decided it would be best to get ready. Air gave Metal a little wave before turning and starting back down the hall towards his room. 

Turning the corner, Air could hear another _thud_ from the door, and unfortunately knew it would be ignored. 


	10. Inchoate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter where there's an out-a-left-field switch of mood so sorry

The city hadn’t changed much since the last time Air visited. By “the last time” he meant back before he was ever affiliated with robotics and back when he was just an average person. Albeit, a _genius_ average person, but his point still stood. Things were always changing so fast in the city yet nothing really _important_ happened. 

High glass towers sprouted where construction sites once were, and the older buildings built long ago are marked for destruction in the future. The city was as he remembered- a growing stain of technology.

It was busy on a mid-afternoon Saturday. Cars haphazardly sped past on the street to reach the bustling stores. There were other people on the sidewalk, and they didn’t even try to hide their disgusted or curious glances towards Air and Quick. 

Thankfully this wasn’t really a stealth mission. In fact, it was almost the opposite.

They were actually probably looking at Air- who, between the two of them, stood out more. Quick didn’t _quite_ fit in either, but he was closer. Unlike Air, Quick had shed his armor for a more normal attire. He also wore a pair of shades and some brand named baseball cap in a pathetic attempt to hide his identity. 

With every car that went by a little faster than the rest, Air could practically feel the frustration radiating from Quick. Nevertheless, Quick continued talking. He had been relatively quiet for the way there, but since they’ve passed the outskirts of the city and now walk between ever-growing towers of glass he’s been talking more and more. Air could only guess to distract himself. 

“And then _I_ said; ‘Looks like you’re the only loser here.’ And man, I don’t think I’ve ever seen them get as mad as they did then.” Quick said with a forced laugh. He crossed his arms confidently over his chest as they continued walking. Air didn’t bother with a response, he’d figured out by now Quick just likes the sound of his own voice. 

“So, how much longer we’ve got to waste?” Quick asked, glancing down to watch and make sure he stepped on every crack in the pavement. 

Air glanced at the projected clock in his upper left field of vision- one of the perks of having artificial optics. “We’ve got a couple hours,” Air said, and added with a sigh,

“We probably could have stayed at the castle until it was closer to time.” 

“A couple hours seems like enough to explore,” Quick suggested, “Let’s get a bite to eat.” 

For just a split second that sounded like a halfway decent idea- before Air remembered that he couldn’t eat with his armor on. Hell, even without his armor his ability to actually consume food was nebulous at best.

He took in a breath to tell Quick to pick something else to do- but Quick was already starting down the street towards a nearby bakery. It had a large glass wall across the front where croissants, rolls, and cakes all lined up neatly under warm lighting. 

Quick practically threw open the door as he walked inside. There was even a little bell ringing with the door’s movement. Air crossed his arms, sighing as he trailed behind. He didn’t walk in immediately, instead looking over the treats in the window. They did look really good… maybe he could get one, for later of course. 

He heard a pair of voices rise in volume, and he glanced over to see a couple walking towards him. One caught his eye- and their conversation was cut to a halt. The one who saw him pulled their partner closer towards the street to put as much distance between them and Air as they passed. 

Whatever, Air took a step closer towards the window to give them room and turned his mind back to the sweets at hand. 

Air couldn’t help but wonder how much they could cost, and absentmindedly reached his hand towards his back pocket to pull out his wallet- oh wait oh weird. That’s right. He doesn’t really have pockets, or money, or… really anything at this point. Huh, he’d gotten used to not having his phone a long time ago but now it just felt weird being reminded of it. Air chuckled a little- how could he have forgotten something that important? 

Air walked over and pulled the door open- only for Quick to saunter out with a tan paper bag in hand. 

“Well that was… _quick_ ,” Air said. 

Quick spun around towards him, and pulled a donut hole from the bag, “Want one?” 

Air gave him a glare, letting go of the door and held that glare until he heard it slam. Quick rolled his head over as he grumbled, “Come on, do you want it or not?” 

“Just _how_ do you think I would eat that?” Air asked, annoyance dripping in his voice. He hated to admit he was a little curious what Quick was thinking. 

“You uh,” Quick glanced away as he thought up something, “Spin around three times and chuck in in the fan.” 

… 

“Ya’ know, like a blender,” Quick shrugged.

“ _What. The. Fuck?!_ ” Air burst out laughing, “You _can_ ’t be serious.” 

“Yeah no I don’t have a clue and frankly don’t care,” Quick said as he ate the donut hole and started back down the street, “More for me I guess!” 

Air felt his fan kick up as he laughed- barely loosing his breath at the fucking thought of throwing food into his fan. Oh-hoh-ho shit, that’d probably be messy. He glanced up- seeing Quick had continued down the street- and tried to catch up as he calmed himself down. 

“So- real quick, is it… building first, or pick up?” Quick asked as he popped another donut hole in his mouth. 

“Building, of course,” Air said, “Wait- where did you get the money for those?” 

“Movie deals, _duh_. Also, I think you terrified a kid inside the cafe when you were lookin’ through the window,” Quick laughed, before pausing to eat another donut hole. 

“Oh well, kid should’a minded his own business,” Air shrugged. Another car raced past them. Air turned and watched it speed down the street- weaving between cars it that weren’t going fast enough for its liking. 

“How could he when there’s this giant fuckin’ metal monster staring through the window? The kid was practically crying.” Quick turned towards Air, shielding his eyes as he looked over the fan, “Can you not, like, take all that off?” 

Air didn’t pull his eyes away from the car- something about this scene seemed a little familiar… “Not without a second pair of hands, and I can’t take everything out.” 

“ _Out_?”

Air pulled up a hand and tapped the outer rim of his fan, then motioned up towards his face- his eyes still focused on where the car was going. He had to lean over to see- but then he suddenly spotted something very _very_ familiar. 

“Oh _hell_ yes,” Air said at the sight of his old tattoo parlor. A quick glance at the clock- before he walked towards it. Air (would have) smiled at the memory of the multiple tattoos fresh on his skin. He remembered sitting near the door- picking out which ones he wanted where, and he could recall more than once where he - stupidly - had gotten a tattoo right before he had to go to work, and sub sequentially showed up late. 

The sign was exactly how it was last time- and the windows had different pieces of artwork and examples plastered on it. He could barely see inside. Air wondered if Mikey still worked there- he was always the one who did his ink. Air remembered countless times hanging out inside chatting before the sound of that car speeding outside interrupted. 

“What’s up?” Quick asked- walking up to look into the parlor, “This caught your eye, huh? Some tattoo shop?” 

“Yeah, I used to go here all the time. I’m surprised they’re still in business,” Air said, “I’m close friends with one of the guys who works here. He’s one of the few people who could keep up with me intellectually, so we got along right quick.” 

“Ah, he must be _pretty_ smart then,” Quick said, leaning closer towards an empty spot in the window.

“Of course,” Air huffed confidently, “Haven’t spoken to him in a couple months though.” 

“Well, maybe we can swing by on the way back, doesn’t look like the place’s open right now,” Quick said, pulling away from the window and reaching into his little bag for another donut hole. Quick sighed, and crumpled it up when he found it empty. “Besides, you can’t be thinking about getting a tattoo, are you? Because I’m not helping you out of that.” 

“You are the _last_ person I would let touch my armor,” Air rolled his eyes, “And I wasn’t thinking about going here myself, just that maybe later I could-“ A ‘ _thwap_ ’ snapped through his chest. It was barely anything, but Air spun over to see the crumpled up paper bag on the sidewalk. 

“What the fuck was that?” 

“You looked a bit peckish.” 

* * *

The metal was cold against his head. A hot thick liquid dripped down, weaving between his eye and nose, over his lips, and finally towards a slow drip off his chin. Pins and needles dug into his throat, a loud dull pain shooting through his head and down the side of his clenched fist. 

Sounds of machines rang through the room- heavy grinds from the far end. He couldn’t do anything about it though- the maintenance hatch was shut and locked. He couldn’t do anything about the sound of dripping water-either. A puddle was slowly growing in another corner of the room. And with the growing of water, Bubble couldn’t help but feel… disgusted.

He forced his tired eyes open- looking down at his folded knees. They were held loosely by heavy new prosthetics that morphed into a disgusting unrecognizable mess of wires. It was the bare minimum he could do- drag himself away from the deafening machines and against the door. But he couldn’t go any further. He couldn’t pull himself up to the locked doorknob and _fucking Novem_ is right outside. 

Bubble forced out a frustrated groan of anger- slamming his fist against the door again. He hoped Novem heard him- he hoped Novem _fucking knew_ it was _his_ fault. The groan quickly turned into a sharp whine at the pain. Bubble let his hand droop down as he rested his head against the door- looking over where deep violet bruises blossomed amongst the red sore skin and knuckles. He didn’t fucking regret it. Part of him knew he deserved this. 

He should have told Dr. Light- he should have told someone other than Elec- he should have said _goodbye_. 

He stumbled into this mess. He pulled out the gun earlier than he should have- but everything was falling apart around him! Everything was crumbling- but he should have waited. Maybe then he wouldn’t be as bloody and broken as he is right now. Bubble pulled at the rim of his messy shirt with his good hand- 

_Novem fucked it all up._

He moved his hand down from his shirt to the beginning of the prosthetics around his waist; they were painful, pinching and digging into him. His _head_ hurt- his _hand_ hurt- his fucking _legs_ -

Bubble let himself slowly move from propping himself up against the door- to up from the floor- to his head against the cold stone flooring and his shaky arms pulling his legs up against his chest. He should have said _goodbye_. 

Bubble closed his heavy eyes, good hand fumbling with loose wires hanging from his new skeletal prosthetics. With each day that passed Bubble couldn’t help but feel his chances of escape or doing something about his situation dwindling. With the way this was going- would he be able to put Elec back together? Oh yeah, Elec’s powered down. Bubble hadn’t let himself really think about that, but… Elec’s not there on the other end of the communicator to give Bubble advice. 

Bubble felt another trickle of blood trail down his face- and a shake ran down his back as realization set in. He couldn’t talk with Elec. He wanted to see him- he wanted to see Dr. Light- and the other light bots- He wanted to see Rock and- and Roll. He wondered if she was doing any better- if Dr. Light was able to make something for her…

Bubble grabbed a random wire- wrapping it around his fingers to form a tighter grip and he was tempted to just fucking yank it. He didn’t know what it was connected to- and did it matter? Just see what would happen. It would be an inconvenience to Wily and something he’d have to fix. 

Bubble wanted to _go home_. 

There was the sound of the door unlocking behind him.

* * *

Air kicked his fan up to keep pace with his pounding heart. His fan was till spitting out tiny bits of rubble, and light ‘ticks’ rattled within his inner workings. Those… did not sound comforting. But comfort was the entirely wrong word to describe this situation right now. 

The hot afternoon sun bore down on the two of them, the sounds of a panicking city were in the distance. Sirens echoed sky, almost silent by the time it reached the two of them. Air brought his hands up, “ _Fucking_! Building, _then_ pick up! _How fucking hard is that?!_ ” 

“Hey, I we got done faster than originally planned, yeah?” Quick said from a little ways ahead, a limp body of their target over his shoulder and some indiscernible machine in his other hand. “Everything’s cool now! Chill out AC!” 

“AC?”

“Air conditioner. You’re smart enough to figure that out,” Quick said, before jerking his head up and back towards the castle, “Come on.” 

Air squinted his eyes at Quick- dust still clinging to his disguise. His hat was completely lost by now, but he had kept the sunglasses hanging around his shirt collar. Air pulled his arm out towards the city and yelled, “I know I fucking am! I’m a fucking _genius_ , but this?! This was the _single_ most _stupid_ thing I’ve ever done!” 

“Hey! Hey,” Quick raised his voice to meet Air- taking a step closer and tilting over just a little as he lowered his voice back down, “It’s over now. This is nothing a genius like you couldn’t handle. You’re not a tool like Metal, you don’t need someone to tell you how to handle things.”

Air paused- lowering his arms and looking over Quick. A slow realization formed in the back of his head and a strange gut feeling twisted, “Yeah. _Right_.” 

Quick nodded and gave him a smile, “Good. _Look_. We’ve got the guy, we’ve got the building. Dr. Light? He’s _got_ the message. And us? You and me, my friend, we’ve just gotten on Wily’s good side. Just as long as this fuck doesn’t die before here and the castle- so let’s get a move on, yeah?” 

Air felt the same gut feeling he had before he confronted Bubble, but he just watched Quick turn and start down the road again. Yeah, Air is a fucking. _Genius_. At least smart enough to see through whatever it is Quick’s trying to pull here.

Air followed him, taking one last hesitant glance towards the city before turning his attention towards the unconscious kid slumped over Quick’s shoulder. 

“I mean, wow I’m lucky I got to know you. Here I was, thinking I’d have to be buddy buddy with Metal! Ha!” Quick started with a laugh, “ Looks like we’re gonna have to stick together! Make a good team, yeah? Team team team, team's a funny word.” 

Air would have furrowed his brow, trying to remember just when Quick switched up how he was talking- when had he changed from being aggravating to… whatever this is. When did he try being sneaky?

“ _Sure_ ,” Air repeated. Did Quick try this sneaky-shit on Metal? 

“Oh yeah- so sorry about not swinging by that tattoo place on the way back,” Quick said, hardly sounding apologetic, “I would say we could come back later but by the sirens it sounds like we won’t be coming back for a long time.” 

There was a period of silence, just the two of them making the trek back to the castle. 

“Hey, no need to hang your head back there. We did well! We did awesome in fact. You and I, we did so good that next time Wily needs something he’ll practically be begging us to go!” 

“No, I’m not-… I’m making sure the kid doesn’t die,” Air said. He looked down and brushed off some of the dust off his armor. He could brush some of it loose but looked like in the scuffle of things he earned a couple scratches on his armor. Air’s a little more surprised Quick didn’t get badly injured. Or… scratched at all. 

As they walked- Air couldn’t help but replay the day in his head over and over again. Partially to figure out exactly when Quick had changed but definitely also to figure out what he was gonna tell Metal...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> apologies for the lackluster chapter, and here's one of the few times we'll have to go back


End file.
